You Belong to Me
by Kikiko
Summary: Complete! AU fic: Edward is a shy teenager who is in love with a girl out of his league. Mutltiple pairings, gay and straight sexual situations. RussxEd eventually RoyxEd. Based on the movie Sabrina.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

**Warning:** Major Alternate Universe and Off Character behavior...I have messed with a classic movie (well, the remake anyway) and my beloved Fullmetal characters...multiple parings, gay and straight sexual situations. I have also messed with who's related to who, last names etc. Also you should note that Edward is whole...no auto-mail.

Thanks to ZaKai for all your hard work on making this a strong opening for this story. With out your help, it'd really suck! oO hahaha!!

**Prologue**

_I had never given much thought to fairy tales when I was younger, but I live in a fairy tale house...or...above the garage, anyway. We live on the north shore of Long Island, just outside of New York, on a massive plot of land. The estate has an indoor pool, an outdoor pool, an indoor tennis court, an outdoor tennis court, a solarium and a slew of servants to take care of the grounds, a small complement of servants to take care of the inside of the house, and even a tree surgeon on retainer__. As a child, the main house almost seemed like a castle to me and I used to have many fantasies about rushing into its mammoth wood and tile hallways to fight off a slew of wicked dragons and evil knights to rescue the princess, one Winry Mustang...maybe I did believe in fairy tales._

_My dad has worked for the Mustangs for many years now. Imported from England to be the chauffeur, he dragged me along with him when I was just six-years-old, and we came to live above the cars my dad drives. It must be some unwritten rule that rich people must have English speaking, or foreign help. I wonder if we'll die of asphyxiation from carbon monoxide someday... _

_Oh, my mom? Well she died giving birth to me, so me and my Da became pretty close, but as soon as I came here I went wild. Since our home in England was pretty small, we didn't have a yard I could play in. Da was so fearful of the dogdey area around us that playing outside was not an option. With so much room now to run and play in, I was beside myself and I was always into something until I finally learned my place. _

_Then there were the Mustangs; our employers. The matriarch of the family, Pinako Mustang was a widower and former owner of Mustang INC. It has been said by many in the business world that Mrs. Mustang's knack for acquiring and expanding her holdings exceeded most of the fortune 500 companies, but she couldn't hold a candle to her son. She has even graced the cover of Time magazine. _

_During the summer, she would, and still does I might add, hold lavish parties almost every night. The guest list reads like a who's who of all the prominent circles of society. Members of the government, wealthy stockholders, executives from other companies, movie stars, rich families from around the area...the only way I could ever attend one of these events was to watch it from the tree overlooking the party. _

_Wearing an expensive suit and sporting a large jeweled necklace, she would leave each morning, driven into the city by my Da, to buy up another company or to take one apart. Her straight-forward nature always made me fearful of her, and it wasn't just me, she even bullied the weather into doing her bidding. No matter how often she held an outdoor party it would never dare to rain or be anything but pleasantly warm on that night, she wouldn't have allowed it. _

_She did try to draw me out with sweets once and a while, but I was still too wary of her. I think she liked to have a young child in her presence again, maybe she felt sorry for me, I don't know. In the end she is just as scary as Roy._

_That brings me to Roy Mustang, the eldest of the Mustang siblings and seven years my senior. He was, and still is a scary, silent, brooding presence in the house. He would always follow after me when we were younger, especially after one of my frequent spills, but his intense black eyes scared me the most. Often while out playing by myself, I would look up to see him standing in between the foliage, just starting at me. I would take off like a bat out of hell and hide. I think that he was trying to decide on how to talk to me, but I'm not really sure. He was just plain scary. _

_He took over the family company at the age of twenty, replacing his mother as president and took the small 100 million dollar company, making it into some serious money. That earned him a place on the cover of Fortune magazine. Now whenever he's home from the city I can see him working in his office, pacing back and forth, with a cell phone held to his ear. I wonder if he ever sleeps, I've never seen him do that. _

_And last of all, there's Winry. A rich socialite if there ever was one. While only two years older then me, she uses her age like a weapon, forcing me to do her bidding. If she knew that all she had to do was ask, I'm sure that she wouldn't have bothered with me at all. No fun tormenting a willing person, after all. She is the love of my life, and the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. She's charming, witty, bossy, dominating, and in and out of more schools and relationships then I could count. Having watched her for so long, I have come to realize that her outgoing nature is just a cover for to protect her inner child, who just wants to be loved. _

_She was on the cover of Maxim magazine, a lot. Stuff, and GQ too. I have all the issues._

* * *

"Edward, get down here please," Hohenheim asked his nineteen-year-old son for the second time.

"Just a minute," Edward answered absently, tucking a strand of golden hair behind his ear as he shifted further up the tree branch to watch the people in the yard. The trees were wrapped in fairy lights all the way to the high up branches, providing most of the light for the party goers. A few paper globes had been strung up, over the tables, adding to the ambiance and everyone looked very fine in their expensive suits and dresses as the live band played a soft waltz. Many of the guests were on the removable wooden dance floor, swaying to the music, but Edward only had eyes for his love, Winry.

"Edward, I won't ask again," Hohenheim warned with his fading English accent as he walked back to the black BMW he'd been waxing.

Edward grunted his acknowledgment and continued to watch his love as she twirled around the dance floor in the arms of her latest boy toy. She laughed at something the tall man whispered in her ear and leaned towards him to respond.

"Oh, no...she's licking his ear," Edward mumbled. "Why'd she have to lick his ear?"

The man pulled away from Winry with a sly smile on his face, and walked off into the direction of the solarium. Winry spent a few minutes talking with the guests before she too walked towards the solarium, by way of the garage. Edward scrambled to get out of the tree as she approached. This would be the last time he'd be able to talk with her for a long time.

He thumped to the ground just as she passed his tree.

"Oh! Edward, you startled me." She held a hand to her chest in surprise, as she whirled around to identify the source of the noise. Edward stood and took in the vision before him; small twigs and leaves rained down on to his baggy indistinct clothing, and into his shoulder length hair.

"Hi, Winry. Having a nice night?" Her pale green dress looked fantastic on her. The strapless, form fitting bodice accentuated her fit and toned body, as the bottom half of the dress swirled about her calves, occasionally showing a hint of her shapely, kissable ankles when the dress moved. Her hair was swept up on to the back of her head in a simple twist with tendrils of hair ghosting across her neck and face. Her bangs were straightened and pushed off to the side of her face, the feathered edges softening her face further. He would have loved to touch her just now.

"Are you still climbing trees? I thought I saw something up there." Winry glanced up at the bare spot in the upper branches before moving away. Edward had been dismissed. His face remained passive, no hint of the raw gaping wound she had just caused. He was almost used to the empty crushed feeling now. It was his constant companion. He watched her retreating back for a moment more before he followed her.

How many times had he seen this chain of events play itself out? He'd lost count long ago, but that didn't stop him from watching again and again. Edward made his way through the shadows towards the solarium, using a well traveled short cut known only to him. He pushed the bush covering the window aside and pressed his nose against the dirty glass.

They were already in each other's arms, dancing. Winry's hand moved lower, resting on the small of the man's back suggestively. Edward often thought about what would be going through his mind right then...probably something dirty, but then he'd seen this routine often enough that he was immune to it...almost.

The man tilted Winry's head up to meet his lips in a hot passionate kiss. They were soon moving towards the padded reclining chair; Winry franticly removing the bow tie and flicking open the buttons to the man's shirt to run her hands down his broad muscular chest. While he cupped her breasts through her dress and ground his pelvis against her own.

Edward let out a shaky breath. It was always like this, first Winry would remove the tie, then the buttons, and then moving to the reclining chair. Always, his own member would stir with the visual stimulation. He rubbed himself through his pants and groaned softly at the friction. They were on the chair now; the man having unfastened the dress was slowly sliding it down to reveal Winry's perfect creamy skin. She wasn't wearing a bra tonight and Edward sighed, fogging the window as he gripped the window still, at the sight of them.

The man claimed one of her nipples, making her arch off the chair and into his body. She franticly pushed at his shirt, pulling it down his arms. Once free of the garment, he claimed the other nipple, while Winry reached down and fondled his groin. Edward groaned. Watching this was so painful, in many ways. His aching erection throbbed with neglect and his heart broke for the millionth time.

He pushed his way back out towards the path; the bush snapping back into place with a rustle. Thrusting his hands into his large baggy pockets, Edward shuffled back towards the garage. Why did he have to go there tonight? Why did she? Couldn't she understand that he was the one she should be with? He had watched her for so long, that he understood her so much more then any drive by fuck would ever know her, but she would never give him a chance like he was now. He climbed the steps on the side of the garage, each one, a little bit easier.

"Edward? Is that you? Please come here for a moment," his father called out to him from his room. Edward shuffled his way across the deck. Standing in the open doorway, Edward watched his father study him for a moment.

"What?" he half-snapped at his father.

"I hate seeing you like this Edward. You deserve so much more then this obsession you have." Placing the book he was reading on the table beside him and Hohenheim crossed the room to clasp his son's shoulder. "Do you know how lucky we are that Mrs. Mustang found this opportunity for you?"

Edward hung his head; he didn't want his father to be right. "Da...do you think...she'll miss me?"

"How can she miss someone she doesn't know exists?" Edward looked up shocked. "I didn't mean that!" Hohenheim's expression softened, "Edward, use this time to your advantage, find out that there's more to life then watching the Mustangs." Edward nodded and shrugging off the hand on his shoulder continued on towards his room to finish packing.

* * *

"...I already told you I don't want to buy another gaming company...because they never make any good games...No, Roger, the deal expired at 10:00 and it's now...10:08. Goodbye." Roy flipped the cell phone closed and slipped it back into his jacket pocket. He looked out across the party and sighed. He was really too busy to be sitting here, but his mother insisted and she could be quite bullish if she didn't get her way.

Pulling on his tie, Roy walked over towards the house. He was dragged into a few conversations and debates with various guests, before he could excuse himself and continue towards the back deck. When he finally made it to the patio doors, his mother was just coming outside.

"Roy, where's your sister?" his mother asked. At fifty, she was still an active part of the company, Mustang INC., and in Roy's opinion, one hell of a scary woman. Her 5'4" frame radiated power and self-assuredness.

"Most likely with her newest fling," answered Roy absentmindedly. His mother gave him a withering glare. They were both aware of Winry's love of all things sexier, and if it made her look more sexy to be with it, she would gravitate towards it. Shaking his head, Roy flicked his arm out under his nose, checking the time on his cheep metal Timex. "It's too late for me to drive back to the city tonight; I'm going to stay here."

"Well if you see your sister tell her I'm looking for her. The Senator wants to meet with her about coming to visit his daughter this summer. I don't know why he won't let her ask Winry herself...so bizarre." Pinako nodded at a passing guest before she turned back to her dark haired son. "Are you going inside? Could you take this up to your sister's room?" Pinako held out her hand, palm up.

Roy took the offered item, a jewel encrusted hair clip, and tisked his sisters carelessness. "What's she thinking? I work hard for us so we can be comfortable and she almost looses a 500,000.00 dollar barrette."

"Oh, Roy, don't start that again," his mother admonished. They both knew how bad Winry could be with her things. To the complete annoyance of her brother, she once lost an almost priceless diamond necklace on loan from Tiffany's. Pinako was glad she had insisted that they insure it.

"Right..." Loosing his tie even more, Roy strode into the house to replace the wayward clip.

* * *

Edward half-heartedly placed his sweaters in his suitcase. He was procrastinating, stalling for time he didn't have, and he was hurting, knowing what Winry was up to with that man. His stomach flipped and churned with jealously and envy. When would Winry realize that he knew her so much better then anyone else; that he was the perfect man for her. With him gone, who would watch out for her like he could?

He placed another stack of clothes into his suitcase, squishing them down to fit. Glancing out the window for the tenth time since he started, Edward noticed that Winry's light was on in her bedroom. _Last chance._...he thought, as he rushed out of the room and flew down the steps. He slunk around in the shadows and entered the house through the servant's entrance.

Everyone was out enjoying the party, but Edward still felt like he shouldn't be here. He crept up to the second floor. At the top of the stairs, Edward could see the door to Winry's room was slightly ajar. He couldn't make his feet move forward and he wouldn't go back now. He must do this.

Taking a deep breath, Edward pushed himself forward. He knocked lightly and waited. He heard a muffled voice call out for him to enter and he pushed the door aside stepping on the plush carpet.

"Ah...Winry?" Edward could hear movement from the closet. "Don't come out 'kay? There's something I got to say..." When he didn't hear anything further, he took that as 'I'm listening' and continued, "I...I just want to tell you...that I...um...I know that you don't _see _me" He picked up a pretty jar from the dresser and fiddled with it in order to keep his hands busy. "...but I...understand you...better then anyone could...and I just want you to know...that somewhere, very far away, someone is thinking about you...and...well...if there's anything I could do--"

"Could you get me one of those cool cigar lighters that look like the Eiffel tower?" Roy asked as he came out of the closet to see Edward fiddling with a jar of perfume on his sister's bureau. The blond's face had gone completely white as he stared open mouthed at Roy.

"Oh god!" Edward dropped the bottle on to the carpet and ran from the room.

Roy could hear the fast retreat of the small teenager, and he started to re-think how funny his request had seemed compared to the look of utter mortification on Edward's face. He had to admit that he wasn't surprised with the blond's infatuation with his sister. It seemed that all males, everywhere, were in love with her at some point.

Sighing, Roy ran a hand through his black hair, letting it fall back in his face. It seemed that Edward was also still very scared of him. He really didn't know what he did to make the blond feel that way towards him. When they were younger all Roy wanted to do was play with him or watch out for the accident prone, younger child.

Ever since his father passed away when he was five, Roy had felt the need to fill his shoes. After the funeral, Roy had closed the door to his room, and removed all traces of his childhood. With Edward's arrival seven years later, Roy felt the first stirrings of the need for friendship in someone who wasn't an adult. He was instantly curious about the newcomers from England when his mother had told him about the chauffeur and the son he was bringing with him. On the day of their arrival, he stood by his mother to greet them as the taxi pulled into the drive and up to the house.

Instead of a quiet, respectful boy, the son of the chauffeur was loud and wild; jumping out of the car as soon as it stopped to gape open mouthed at the property. Roy had watched him with wonder. Did kids really act like that? In the days that followed, the small boy had full run of the grounds, and was always getting cuts and stitches every time Roy turned around. As much as Roy tried to engage the boy in play when they were younger, he avoided him whenever possible and would only beg to play with Winry.

Sighing once more, Roy left his sister's room for the party downstairs. It would soon be winding down and his mother would want him nearby.


	2. Chapter 01

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

Thanks to ZaKai for reading and correcting my mistakes. I'd also like to thank Kestrel Faeran for the help she provided with my sucky French XD. Merry Christmas y'all!

This chapter is short but they won't all be like this...some are longer...let me know what you think XD. Also beware...I time skip quite a bit through out this story...you have been warned.

(1) – My French, quite frankly, sucks...so I'm using a translation page...Also I don't plan on using a whole lot of French here, just every now and then. He says; "Hello! How are you?"

(2) - She says; "That's too bad, I would have like to see you drop those."

(3) - "Come with me."

(4) - "Are you stupid?"

**Chapter 1**

Edward nervously walked down the broad marble corridor towards the door at the far end. His sneakers squeaked, making the blond attempt to walk softer and lighter to hide his presence. Looking over his shoulder, he made sure, for the fifth time, that no one was watching him as he gripped his messenger bag strap tightly in his hands.

_Arg! Why am I even here? I knew this was a mistake. I'm no good at this type of thing, _Edward fretted. Not much further to go and then he'd be in front of the door. Then he had to go in...find the director, figure out his duties. With only a few feet left before he reached the door, he began to think of ways to worm out of this job. Maybe he could head out on the next flight home and forget about all this 'find yourself' nonsense.

The door at the end of the hall creaked open. Edward froze.

A young man was speaking with someone in the room, and his back was to Edward. He could jump behind one of the pillars lining the wall, if he could make his body move, that is, but then the man would hear the movement. Maybe he could just turn around and causally walk away. That might work, but again his feet wouldn't move. As the internal debate raged, the man turned around, spotting him.

"Bonjour! Comment allez-vous? (1)" the man addressed Edward as he came up the hallway, striding confidentiality towards him. Edward could only stare wide eyed at the man. He was tall, taller then him by like, ten inches, and the bright short blond hair fell into his blue eyes. He seemed to be around his age, maybe a little bit older. The slim pants, and white button down shirt he was wearing made Edward feel under dressed in his own baggy pants and layers of shirts, with an open button down over top of it all.

Edward just shook his head, hitting his face with his loose, shoulder length hair, and hid his face within his bangs, trying to hide the warmth on his cheeks. He didn't want to be caught staring.

"Ah, no French then...my name is Russell. How do you do?" The tall blond held out his hand, waiting for Edward to clasp it.

Un-clenching his death grip on the bag's strap, Edward folded his hand around the outstretched hand and pumped it once before letting go quickly, smiling shyly at the other boy.

"And you are...?" Russell smiled at the obviously shy nature of the other boy.

"Edward Elric," he mumbled.

"Ah, we've been expecting you. How was your flight? All settled in?" Russell asked.

"Y-yeah..."

"Good. Now just to warn you, Marcoh is a bit eccentric," Russell threw his arm about the smaller boys shoulder's bring him close to his body, guiding him towards the door. "So don't take ANYTHING to heart. He just loves to see weakness." Edward nodded, listening carefully to the instructions, but blushing furiously at such casual contact between strangers. "It shouldn't take long, then I can show you your duties."

They walked through the doors at the end of the hall, and Edward stared in awe at the vast doomed ceiling in the middle of the room. The place was littered with shelves full of dusty tomes and drawers seemingly stuffed full of cloth maps and other documents from the past. With Russell pulling him along, however, Edward didn't have the chance to study anything except in passing.

"This is all the boring stuff through here. We don't really work with this unless the government is looking for some point to highlight in session, or something like that." Russell guided them through the chamber. "This would be what the tourists see."

"I think it looks like fun," mumbled Edward, hiding his face once again in his hair. One thing he learned to appreciate as a child, were books. His father had passed along his quiet past time to his son, and when Edward wasn't out watching the Mustangs, he was hidden away in some nook, reading.

Russell smiled down at the newest member of the Archivist Society of Paris. This one was going to liven things up nicely, if he had any say in it. This place was so incredibly dull and boring, but Russell could sense a free spirit when he saw one, or the desire to be a free spirit. Either way, he planned to take Edward under his wing.

* * *

Stumbling under the weight of the paper piled high in both his arms, Edward wove down the hall towards the preservation room. As he neared the door, Edward noticed that he had a big dilemma on his hands. _How the hell am I supposed to get the door open,_ he panicked.

Glancing up and down the hallway, Edward hoped to find someone heading towards him that he could ask to open the door, but at the moment he was the only one out here. Why hadn't he taken the cart Russell had shoved his way? Some need to show off to the other man perhaps. Well there was nothing for it, he was going to have to do something or else he could be out here all day.

Balancing the bundle in one arm, Edward reached out slowly towards the door handle, ready to whip his hand back at the slightest hint of a paper avalanche. Molding his fingers around the handle, he carefully turned the knob, holding his breath as the paper swayed somewhat within his arms.

He had been warned, very sternly, that if he dropped these very important and OLD papers that his boss, Dr. Marcoh, would feel it just punishment in taking a body limb from him in payment. Despite what Russell had told him about the man, Edward was intimidated. That's why, when the door suddenly opened from inside, slamming into to his shoulder, Edward screeched in alarm.

Dropping his hold on the door handle, Edward pawed at the stack, trying desperately to make them halt their gravity induced slant at the floor. Squeezing the top towards the bottom seemed to help still the papers. Sagging with relief, Edward hopped out of the way of the person still standing in the doorway watching him with an amused expression on her face.

"Comme c'est dommage, j'aurais bien aimé vous voir les laisser tomber.(2)" The dark skinned woman grinned at him. "Maybe anothsuer time, eh?" she finished in thickly accented English. Her deep brown eyes flashed with amusement.

Startled by her callous sounding words, Edward could only wonder at their meaning. He watched as she slid past him, smirking all the while. Sashaying her hips, the small tanned woman walked slowly past. Gapping at her retreating back, Edward mentally slapped himself. No time to be dallying in the halls, these papers had to be somewhere. He finally noticed that the door was swinging back and thrusting out his foot, he toed the door open again.

Several people were working on illuminated benches scattered through out the room, not bothering to look up as he entered. Threading his way through the lab, Edward carefully placed the stack on the table towards the back, and stepped away to wipe at his forehead.

His job was to locate all documents pertaining to the correspondence of two minor English politicians from 1875, and he had to sift through this pile to do so. _Sounds simple enough_, he thought. Pulling over a chair from the desk beside the table, Edward took a seat and looked at the first of many documents.

It wasn't long before Edward felt someone leaning over him from behind. Willing the urge to squirm to go away, Edward continued with his work hoping who ever was watching him would get tired and just leave. As the insanely long seconds ticked by, and Edward had read the same line a dozen times, he felt that this was enough. He could hear the shadow's foot tapping in annoyance. Glancing to the left, Edward tried to spy the watcher with out being noticed.

"I thought I told you to make sure your ridiculously long hair was tied back," the director seethed.

Startled, Edward stumbled out of his chair and stood to face his boss, Mr. Marcoh. "N-no ...s-s-sir you didn't..." His voice faded, and his body wilted under the director's scrutiny. He tried to collapse in on himself, _boy am I weak, _he told himself.

"I don't want to see your stringy hair all over these papers. Go find something to take care of it." Edward watched the large man pivot on his heel and stomp out. The other people made sure to keep their heads nice and low until after he had left through the door. After a moment of standing slack jawed, Edward pulled himself together and feeling all the eyes on his back, he tried not to appear to run from the room...it was just walking with a purpose.

* * *

On his way back to the lab, Edward spotted the girl from before. Her easy strides were bringing her closer towards him. Ducking his head and gluing his eyes to the floor, he hoped that she wouldn't accost him again. He really missed his ability to hide within his hair now that it was tied back at the nape of his neck. He could hear her high heeled boots strike the marble floor, coming closer with each step.

Peeking through his bangs, Edward choked when he saw that the girl was making a bee line right for him. No longer able to move forward, he froze in place. The woman grinned at him, and to Edward it looked very much like she had horns on her forehead and a forked tail swishing out the back.

"You, Edward?" the devil asked him.

"...Yeah..." Edward answered breathlessly.

"Venez avec moi,(3)" the girl hooked a finger at him, and waited.

Touching his tongue to the front of his teeth, Edward tried to puzzle out what she wanted from him. Did he do something wrong again? He had only been here for a few hours now, and it seemed that everyone was out to make his life as miserable as possible.

"Êtes-vous stupide? (4)" the woman's face sneered at him

"I...I don't know any French..." Edward mumbled to the floor. He could feel the heat rise to his face.

"Tch! Come s'his way," she hooked her finger once more, and turned, pausing long enough to make sure that Edward followed.

Making an 'O' with his mouth, Edward forced his feet to move forward, following the woman as she lead him away from the preservation room, to another part of the building. Trying not to get hopelessly lost, he paid attention to all the many twists and turns, but after they had been walking for fifteen minutes, Edward gave up. Just where were they going anyway?

Finally the woman turned into a room off of a narrow hallway, and Edward trailed after her. Once inside the room, she began to speak in rapid French, pointing to stacks of paper, lifting a few sheets to ramble about them, before moving on to explain something else. Once she finished what ever she was saying to him, she turned and walked out leaving him alone in the room.

Ed looked around at his new surroundings in forlorn defeat, and then back at the door. "What the HELL am I supposed to do _here_?" He asked the room, knowing he wouldn't be getting an answer anytime soon. Swallowing against the burning in the back of his throat, Edward plunked down on the middle of the floor. With his elbows digging into his knees, he cradled his head in his hands, and blinked at the tears springing up.

_This is the worst day of my life, even worse then Winry not paying any attention to me...ever_. He watched as a tear dropped from his eye to splash down to the dirty floor, making a wet spot. Sniffling, Edward swiped his shirt sleeve across his eyes. He was not going to cry. He was a boy, dammit. Boys didn't cry!

Pushing on the floor, Edward stood and studied the room. Sniffling once more, he walked over to one of piles of paper and looked at what was written on it. It was in French. He wanted to screech in frustration, but he held it in. Would this day never end?

* * *

"Is that a letter from Edward? How is he? Staying out of trouble?"

"He's miserable." Hohenheim shook his head at the hastily scrawled plea from his son to let him come home. He looked up into the face of the speaker as she bent over his shoulder to look at the letter with him.

Patricia was the head cook for the Mustang's and had started around the same time as he had. She had doted on Edward as a small child, and Edward had drank it up, often asking Hohenheim if she could be his mom when he tucked the small child into bed at night.

He had always mumbled some sort of response before leaving the room, but then in the quite of his study, surrounded by his books, he would wonder what it would be like to have a woman in his life again. The attraction he felt for her wasn't sexual at least not in the beginning, it was companionship that he craved most as he got older. He just wanted someone to share his thoughts with.

"Oh dear. Should we bring him home?" Patricia asked, scanning the letter for any good points at all. She pulled a strand of her warm brown hair over her shoulder and twirled it around her finger.

"No, this is good for him. He just doesn't realize it yet." He handed the letter over to Patricia and began to eat his breakfast of eggs and toast. He looked over as the woman took a seat next to him, pouring over the letter. His eyes softened as he watched her chew on her lip while reading.

Across the table, the gardener, Fu, tisked. "You know..." he began in his heavily accented English. "When I was a small boy, many, many years ago, I didn't have the chance to travel and be on my own."

Hohenheim looked over at the heavily mustached face of the Asian man, and tried not to roll his eyes at him. He could hear Patricia shift in her seat and he forced himself to keep his eyes on the man as he talked.

"I had to work hard, _each day_ to plant the rice that would feed all of us. Thirteen mouths to feed, and only one small acre of land, and the house was made out of mud. We had to scrape together twigs in order to heat us in the winter. He should enjoy his freedom. I never had any, and look at me, do I look upset, no." The gardener sat back, looking satisfied that he'd made his point.

"Thank you, Fu." Hohenheim nodded at him, before shoveling a mouth full of eggs into his mouth to stop him from saying anything else. The gardener's stories were always somewhat...eccentric.

"Don't you think your being hard on him, Hohenheim?" Mei Chang asked from her position at the sink, water sloshed out and down the front of the cabinet. "He's like, so...shy. It must be, like, tough on him." The young girl looked across the room at the dinners. "I mean, like...well he's not _shy_ but, like, he is...shy, you know?" she tilted her head as she talked.

"Yes, I am aware of Edward's failings, Mei Chang, thank you," Hohenheim said, before taking a sip of his coffee. The young woman was so engrossed with American television that she was taken on some of the worst speaking habits. He was glad that Edward didn't talk like that.

"Well I was only _saying_..." Mei Chang pouted and turned back to her dishes.

"You should get going soon, the Mustangs will be leaving soon," Patricia said as she handed the letter back to Hohenheim.

Hohenheim folded the letter and pushed it into his pants pocket. "Right." Taking one last sip of coffee, he grabbed his hat from the table beside him and fitted it on his head. "Have a good day." he smiled at Patricia and pushed his chair back into the table.

"It'll be alright, dear. I'm sure of it," Patricia told him as he passed. Smiling to signal that he heard, Hohenheim left by the back entrance to wait by the car for Mrs. Mustang and her son.

--To be continued--


	3. Chapter 02

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

'insert speech here' - this represents a character speaking in a tongue other then French or English.

Rodger, Adaba, and Jacques are original characters.

**Chapter 2**

Edward blinked against the bright morning sunshine coming through his bedroom window, and burrowing into his pillows, he sighed in contentment. The warm columns of light fell onto his white sheets, heating him in patches. Squirming further into the sunshine made the light fall fully on his back, it was lovely to be in his bed, with crisp white sheets, fluffy feather down pillows, feather bed, and enjoying the slow morning. He was happy to find the feather bed waiting for him when he arrived from the States; a farewell gift from his father. He was just happy that there was no school today, thank God.

Edward stopped his shifting and opened his eyes. School? No, it was work, and he was...Edward opened his eyes and looked over at his night side table at his alarm clock. Late! SHIT! He threw back the covers and jumped out of bed, tumbling to his hands and knees. DAMMIT! He was late, again! He was so dead.

Stumbling over the clothes littered like little heaps of flotsam across the floor, Edward made a bee line for the small bathroom just off his bedroom. Reaching into the curtained shower, he got the water running to the right temperature and peeled off his PJ bottoms and underwear, and jumped in. He gasped when the scalding hot water hit his chest. Moving out of the spray, he adjusted the temperature to something he could stand, and then quickly lathered up his body.

This would be the third time this week alone, that he'd be late. Dr. Marcoh was not very happy with him, and it always left him with sore ears from all the screaming the man did. It was embarrassing the way he was thoroughly raked over the coals. He barely rinsed the suds off before he was out and drying off. Hurrying into his room again, Edward did a visual check for the location of his laundry basket. He'd swear the thing had legs, and would shift from one place to the next in an effort to find a new hiding place.

Spotting laundry basket by the closet in his room, he trotted over to rummage through it for some clothes to wear. Throwing his towel on the bed, he pulled on some boxers and brown baggy cords. He found one of his white—now off white—t-shirt and carried it with him out into the living room. Holding his shirt in his mouth he quickly placed two slices of bread into the toaster in his small kitchenette and hurried over to the door to get his bag. Brining it back with him, he opened the small hotel sized fridge and dumped an apple and a juice bottle inside. He placed the bag on the floor and sorted out his t-shirt, pulling it over his head.

Slinging his bag across his body, popped up his half toasted bread and mashed his feet into his sneakers. He snatched his keys off the hook by the door, and slammed his door shut behind him. Locking the door, Edward bounded down the narrow apartment steps to the ground floor, leaping out the front door and hitting the ground running.

Running full out, Edward reached back and gathered up his hair at the nape of his neck, and used the elastic on his wrist to secure it. Thank heaven that the metro was so close to his apartment, otherwise he'd be really late. As it was now, Edward figured that he wouldn't make until twenty minutes after nine, and he was supposed to start at 8:30 AM. _Man, I'm in soooo much trouble_, Edward wined in his head, as he dodged around an elderly man.

He just hoped that Paninya didn't find him first. Edward thought that she was actually more awful the Dr. Marcoh was. Really, he had no idea just what he did to upset her so. Did she just decide that since he was the new kid, she would pick on him?

His first month in Paris wasn't going all that well. The return letter from his dad, wasn't very sympathetic to his plea to come home, in his opinion. It's like, he was being abandoned. He pulled out his metro pass and swiped it through the card reader. The turn stile clicked and he pushed his way through.

He could hear the train coming down the tunnel and he rushed to catch it. Taking the steps two at a time, Edward jumped the reaming distance and lurched towards the closing train doors. One of the passengers saw his mad dash and held the door from closing.

"Merci." Edward's chest heaved as he crossed the threshold. The kind passenger let the door close and smiled before turning and taking a vacant seat. Backing up to lean against the doors, he watched through the opposite windows as the underground passed by. The train always made him reflect and remember things he didn't want to remember. Like that time when he was eight, and Winry had just come home from boarding school. He had spent hours making a box like they did in school last week made of macaroni. He glued and then painted the cardboard box with a gold paint, because she liked gold. All to welcome her home.

He had waited with the other servants for her arrival, his present hiding behind his back, in his sweaty palms. When she finally arrived, she swept down the line acknowledging their comments and smiling sweetly; Roy trailed behind, dressed in his blazer and tweed pant suit, his hands clasped behind his back. For a fifteen year old, he acted like his father, or so Edward had been told. Old and stuffy; Winry's ever present guard.

When Winry worked her way down the line and smiled at him, Edward had forgotten all about his present, and could only smile uncertainty back. Patricia, who had been standing next to him, he remembered, patted his head when Winry walked away. After that he had wondered the grounds, pouting. The box held out in front of his chest, he finally sat down under the old willow tree on the far edge of the Mustang's property.

He couldn't remember what happened to it after that, but he did remember searching for it after he had eaten supper that night when he noticed that it was missing. He had searched until the summer light had faded from the sky, but it was gone, and he didn't feel like making another. Roy had wandered out just as Edward had given up the search and was making his way back to the garage.

Seeing his drooping shoulder's and dragging feet, Roy had made his way over to him. Edward sort of remembered him being nice that night but he couldn't really remember what Roy did or said. It wasn't enough to make him comfortable around the teen though.

The train slowed to a stop, next stop was his. Edward tried to expel his childhood memories, as he moved away from the door to let people off. He supposed that he'd be doing this a lot, this remembrance, during his time here. Maybe it was like leaching out poison, or pulling out a splinter. The cure was almost as painful as the injury.

At his next stop, Edward squeezed through the door before it was even fully open and ran up the stairs. Wheezing at the top, he had to waste precious moments to regain his wind. He ran down the street and up the steps of the old archives building.

"Edward!" A familiar voice called.

Edward stop just before entering the front door and turned to see who was hailing him.

"Edward, take the back way, come on." Russell waved him over from behind a stone lion guarding the front doors.

"Russell! My alarm didn't go off." Edward retraced his steps and squeezed behind the statue.

"I covered for you, when Dr. March came looking. They don't know your late." Russell informed him as soon as he stopped in front of the taller boy. Motioning Edward to follow, Russell lead the way to the corner of the building.

"Oh, thank God. I wanted to be able to retain my hearing." Edward sighed with relief that his skin and all his body parts were going to be staying with him a while longer.

They fell silent, as they work their way around the side of the building and to the back door and on to the main part of the archives. Russell led him to the empty lunch room, and Edward stashed his bag in his locker. When he turned around, Russell threw a bag at him, which he snatched neatly out of the air.

"Nice catch," grinned Russell. "You got really good reflexes."

"Thanks. What's this?" Edward looked into the brown paper bag. Frowning, he pulled the garish teal plastic clock covered with bizarre cartoon characters. "What's _this_?"

"Three times in a row, means your alarm clocked is fucked. You can have this one." Russell came along side Edward and pointed out one of the characters. "This guy's my favorite. That frog was so funny to me as a kid--"

"Was this your's? You actually had something like this?" Edward looked up into Russell's face as he bent over him. He was touched that this guy was making such a gesture of friendship, but then when he looked back at the hideous clock...

"Yeah, it's ugly isn't?" Russell took the clock from Edward and flipped it over. "Here's how you set it." Edward nodded and turned it over. "I know it's not a 'guys' clock, but its really reliable and has never let me down." Russell told Edward as he studied it.

"Thanks Russell! Do you want me to pay--"

Russell held up a slim hand, forestalling his next words. "It's a present, from a friend. Hurry up and put that away, we should go get you seen so no one begins to wonder."

"Right." Edward replaced the clock in the paper bag and re-opened his locker placing the bag carefully on top of his own.

"It's good to see your not wearing your baggy shirts today. I was beginning to wonder if you might not be fat under all those clothes. You're actually quite delicate aren't you?" said Russell leading the way out of the lunch room and to their work places. He eyed the boy coming up behind him as he hid his face in his hair.

"I'm not small!" groused Edward. He adjusted his shirt, noticing for the first time that he was with out his extra layers. In his rush to get to work he'd totally forgotten to grab his baggy plaid shirt that he wore over everything and he was feeling exposed with out his usual garb.

"How old are you?" Russell inquired, abruptly changing the subject.

"Nineteen. Why?"

"At nineteen you don't have much chance to grow anymore," snickered Russell.

"What! Are you serious! I'm done growing? That can't be, my da's _huge!_" complained Edward, his arms waving high above his head to indicate how tall his father was.

"But how big is your mother?" Russell held up a finger and looked across at Edward. "What?" Russell dropped his finger and turned to look at the boy when he stopped in the middle of the hall, with his chin touching his chest.

"I don't know. I never knew her," Edward mumbled. He wondered what it would have been like to have a mother. If only his da would see that Patricia was a kind woman...

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up painful memories." Russell took an abortive step towards the blond and then thought he better not.

Edward rubbed his shoulder along his ear. Another sore point he'd have to deal with, it seemed. Sticking on a large smile, he brushed past Russell and hurried on to their desks. After a few moments, Edward could hear the other boy rush to catch up.

Glancing sideways at him, Edward could see that Russell was worried about the distress he had inadvertently caused. "Don't worry about it." Ed assured the taller boy. "It's hard not knowing her growing up. Sometimes it just gets me weird, like, I'm lonely or something." Ed tried to explain his feelings so that Russell wouldn't feel bad about hurting him any more, but he had hardly thought about it himself, let alone try to explain it to someone.

"Can I make it up to you?" Russell pulled on Edward's arm stopping him from entering their work room.

"You don't have too, really." Edward couldn't help it, he was blushing. He really wasn't used to people touching him so easily except for maybe his da.

"I want to. You've been here almost a month now, and I don't think that you've really seen Paris yet, have you? Let me take you around, please," Russell brought his palms together and held them in front of his mouth, pleading.

"Um...okay, if you really want too--"

"I really do!" Russell grabbed both of Edward's shoulder's in his excitement. "I know all sorts of great places. You'll love it." Smiling at the stunned expression on Edward's face, Russell slapped his back in a friendly manner and propelled them the rest of the way towards their work.

* * *

Leaning over the side of the stone bridge, Edward studied the water rushing along below his feet. A small house boat was slowly making it's way down river towards him. The painful chugging of it's engine rose above the sounds of the passing cars as it neared the bridge, and the white wake of it's passing, shattered the calm smooth surface of the water, making the evening lights glisten in the water's reflection. Going up on his tip toes, Edward tried to look under the bridge to see if any birds were nesting under the struts like they did on the buildings back home.

A warm gust of summer air lifted the bottom of his shirt, and he slid back off the railing to pull it down. "It's great here." He leaned his back into the stone and looked across the bridge at the night sky of Paris in summer.

"Yeah." Russell turned as well, taking in the city scape as he leaned against the bridge. "Shall we go on to the bar?"

"But, Russell, I'm not legal, how am I going to get in?" Edward didn't think his father would be too thrilled to know his son had gotten thrown in jail for underage drinking. He could already imagine what his da would say to him.

"I know people," Russell waved the protest away. "Plus your good looking." Edward blushed hard at the causal comment on his looks. "They would want you there. Makes the club look good, to have beautiful people there."

"I don't know..." Edward chewed on his thumb nail in his unease.

"It'll be fine, trust me."

Edward nodded and thrust his hands in his baggy jean pockets. Russell had somehow convinced him to abandon his many layers for the night, but he drew the line at ditching his loose fitting jeans. As they walked the night streets, Edward stared in awe of the buildings and it's people many of whom were out on the streets talking with one another, as if was too hot inside.

Russell tapped his shoulder and led them down a seedy looking alley. "Here it is," he declared, sweeping his arm, and smiling widely.

"I don't get it? Is this some sort of French humor?" Edward asked, looking up and down the trash strewn alley. He hunched his shoulders as he watched a homeless man shuffle across the far end, and shivered.

"No, no, look here. It's ultra high class." Russell stepped up to a heavy metal door and banged it twice. He stepped back, next to Edward and waited.

Glancing side long at Russell, Edward quirked an eyebrow as the wait drew out longer and longer.

"I tell you, it's good, trust me," Russell patted the smaller blond on the shoulder and turned back to wait some more.

"Riiight. Listen thanks for the invite, but I think I'll just go home."

"Nonono, you can't leave yet." Russell grabbed Edward around the waist. The small blond squirmed in his effort to extract himself from the ever tightening hold. They wrestled, Edward trying to pry off Russell's encircling arms and Russell, trying to keep Edward from leaving.

Just as Edward had broken Russell's pawing hands away from his waist and was about to step away from the taller boy's body, the door swung open, and a large wide man filled the door looking at the two young boys in what, to him, must have looked like a compromising situation.

"Tringham?" the mountain of a man asked.

"Jacques," Russell let Edward go. He ran a hand through his long bangs, smoothing out his appearance, and smiled at the bouncer. "Jacques, this is Edward, he's from America."

Edward shifted and pulled his t-shirt lower, and inched closer to Russell, but stopped himself from hiding behind him all together. That man was huge...

"How do you do, Edward," the bouncer answered in heavily accented English. He gave a small half bow, and returned his stare to Russell. "Just the two of you tonight, Tringham?"

"Yes, please, Jacques," Russell beamed at the nervous boy beside him, throughly enjoying the fact that Edward was seeking refuge behind him.

"This way, please," Jacques stepped into an alcove beside the door, leaving them room to pass.

Placing a hand on the small of Edward's back, Russell guided the smaller blond before him into the club. He tried to hide his smile as Edward tried to look everywhere at once. It was very fetching. Nudging his back once more, Russell moved past him to climb down the white stone steps, leading the way. Now that they were inside, the pounding of heavy bass could be heard. Pushing open the heavy door at the bottom of the stairs, Russell shoved his way into the throng of people milling about trying to talk over the loud music.

Gawking at the stylish new age feel of the club, Edward realized that he had lost Russell almost immediately after entering. Many off the people standing by the door were giving him the eye, and one woman even rubbed along his back, pressing her breasts to him. His eyes went wide as he mumbled his apologizes to her, but he could have sworn that she didn't mind in the least. She may have even done it on purpose.

Maneuvering off to the side, Edward got out of the crowds way and leaned up against the wall. Chewing on his lip, he scanned the milling people trying to spot Russell's bright blond hair in the constantly shifting throng, and blinking lights. Heaving a large sigh, he had to admit it, he was small, just as Russell had said. It wasn't until Russell had pointed it out to him the other day that he had even thought his height. He was about 5'2" now, if he was lucky he figured he might get another inch or two with the way things were going.

Scanning the crowd once more, Edward stopped when he saw a couple making out on the low slung back seat in the corner, near him. He could even see the woman's naked breasts as the man groped at her skirt, pulling it ever higher. He was dumbfounded that no one seemed to notice or care that two people were about to have sex right in front of everyone.

"Oh, don't worry about that, we're going in the back. It's better there you'll see." Russell shouted in his ear. He had two drinks in his hands and thrust one at Edward. The small boy started and looked up at him in momentary fear. "Why'd you take off like that?" Russell asked.

"Jesus, you scared the shit outta me," Edward admonished, grabbing at his chest as if to stop his heart from escaping. He reached his other hand out to take the drink Russell was insistently waving under his nose.

"Sorry," Russell breathed into his ear, leaning in to respond. He took a moment more to breathe in the smell of Edward's shampoo before straighting and nodding that he should follow him.

Edward nodded, and took one more look at the couple in the corner. Peeling his eyes away he took a quick sip of what ever Russell had pushed at him, and was surprised at the yummy flavor. He drank some alcohol once before when he had stolen the brandy from his father's cabinet to try it out, but this was way better then that was, it didn't even burn.

Hurrying after Russell, Edward made sure to stay close as the people along the bar wove in and out in an effort to get the next round of drinks or to return to their table. After almost loosing Russell twice to the throng, Edward reached out and held on to the hem of Russell's shirt. The taller boy looked back at the slight touch and smiled, causing Edward to blush.

"Crowded!" Edward shouted. Russell nodded and continued to lead them to his destination.

The pounding music let up somewhat as Russell led them down a enclosed hallway. This area was free of the pressing crowd so Edward let go of Russell's shirt and took his time to study the decor. Taking another sip of his drink, he noticed a cascading water fall on their right and he reached out a finger to touch the water as he passed by.

"Where are we going? I thought you wanted to dance and stuff," Edward asked. Russell smiled at him over his shoulder and continued to walk down the mostly deserted hallway. Shrugging, Edward followed behind, taking another sip of his drink. He didn't mind this place, it was neat, with all the clean lined furnishings and white painted walls. He really like this style.

"Here we are." Russell drew back a beaded curtain and waited for Edward to pass through. His eyes never left Edward's small frame as it brushed lightly across his body and entered the room, stopping just inside. Letting the curtain fall, Russell took up a position on Edward's left side and surveyed the room with him.

Edward's mouth was hanging off his face as he stared around the sunken room. A milling crowd of people were sitting on the tiered seats, talking and drinking, but what really caught his eye was the ring in the middle of the room under bright overhead florescent lights.

"Whoa..." breathed Edward, "what's all this?"

"I noticed you had some pretty good reflexes, I don't know if your into this sort of stuff, but I didn't think it could hurt." Russell held out his hand and motioned Edward to find a seat.

Closing his mouth with a click of his teeth, Edward moved down the wooden steps towards ring side. "Can we sit down front?" he craned his neck to ask Russell, who was a riser behind him. This was so cool, like a movie or something. That one with Jet Li, where he has to fight in the ring, it was something like this in a way. Those movies always made him hyper and want to jump around and stuff.

"Sure," smiled Russell in response.

Edward grinned huge, and rushed towards two ring side seats that were still vacant. He plopped his bum in the metal folding chair and turned to watch Russell walk slowly towards him. His friend, he figured he could call him that now, spotted someone walking towards him and waving. Holding up a finger to Edward, Russell walked over to the man who was trying to signal him.

Edward watched for a moment as they talked, but the excitement of the place was building, he could feel it. The murmurers became loud and people were taking their seats. He wondered what type of fight they were going to watch. Boxing maybe, or maybe some mixed martial arts like on the ultimate fighter matches on TV. That'd be really cool. He could feel his blood rushing around his body. Taking another sip of his drink, he placed it on the floor so it wouldn't get in the way later.

Edward glanced again at Russell, who was still engrossed in his conversation. Russell noticed Edward's stare and winked at him before turning back to concentrate on the man while he was speaking. He felt the heat creep up his neck, but luckily Russell didn't get to see. Turning back to the ring, Edward sat on his hands in an effort to keep still.

'Hey, boy! Those are my seats!'

Edward looked up into a mashed face, thrust into his own. The deep black of his skin and his pock marked face made the speaker's eyes pop out all the more. Edward blinked as the man spoke in a tongue he didn't recognize. It wasn't French that was for sure.

'Kid, I'm warning you...'

"Sorry, what?" Edward shrugged his shoulder's and mimed that he didn't understand what the man was trying to say to him.

'Are you back talking me, boy?' the man straightened up and glared down his flattened nose at Edward. His wide, solid frame took up the whole view of the ring. He crossed his arms as he continued to glare at him, tapping his foot in his annoyance.

Edward glanced nervously at Russell, seeking help or a friend to deal with this guy. His jaw was gripped in massive sausage like digits and his head was forcefully turned around to look up into the angry man's face.

'Look at me when I talk to YOU.' the man bellowed, shaking the captive boys head, making his shoulder length hair dance and bounce.

Edward could hear gasps from the crowd as people began to notice what was happening near the ring. So shocked was he, that he couldn't even think about getting away or calling out for help. He just sat there dumbly, with his eyes wide, trapped in the vice like grip on his jaw.

The man growled at Edward, his face darkening even further. Lifting the small boy to his feet with the grip on his jaw alone, he dragged him to the edge of the ring.

Fighting to breathe and work the hand off his face, Edward followed as best he could to ease the pressure on his face. The man threw him as the ring's edge, and he could just make out the collective gasp of the crowd over the pounding of the blood in his ears. Tripping over his own feet, Edward instinctively threw up his arms to protect his head from smashing in two against the ring's edge.

He collided sideways; his elbow taking the brunt of the impact, making his arm go weak as the pain laced up and down his arm. Then the meaty hand was back; twisting through his hair, making his head arc backward painfully. He was yanked backwards, and then thrown back into the ring. His head slid along the rough canvas, pealing away the skin on his left cheek and temple.

His body was bent in half, with his legs dangling over the side of the ring. The assault paused and Edward could hear shouting. Cracking his eyes open, he looked through his hair at Russell and Jacques yelling at the man to stop or the police would be called. Edward looked over at his attacker. He noticed that with the way he was turned towards Russell, it made his knee vulnerable to a good kick that would topple the man to the floor.

As soon as he made the connection, Edward cocked his leg. He twisted as much as the man's grip would allow to get a better look at where he had to aim. He kicked out viscously, hitting the joint dead on. Yelping his surprise, the man released his hold and tumbled to the floor in a graceless heap.

Pulling his arms under him, Edward slowly raised his torso from the ring. Russell was edging around the man on the floor coming to him; he looked freaked out. His wrist was gripped tight and he was pulled out of striking range of his attacker. Pushing at Russell to make him stop, Edward turned around to watch as the man was carried out of the club by several bouncers. He was screaming loudly and kicking his feet making the men carrying him grunt as they tried to maintain their hold on him.

The crowd, with their show gone began small pockets of excited conversation, until the room was buzzing again with what they had just witnessed. Russell tugged on his arm.

"Edward, lets get you cleaned up. I know the owner, we'll use his office." Pulling Edward around the ring, Russell led the way to the high up office over looking the room.

Gingerly testing the wound on his face, Edward followed closely behind Russell. His body had yet to react to the shock it had sustained, but he had no doubt it was coming. He wanted to be somewhere private just in case. Russell kept looking back at him, but he couldn't think of anything to say. They climbed the stairs in silence, with Edward lagging behind as his body protested the climb, and the shock began to slowly assert itself.

Holding open the door for Edward, Russell felt a huge pang of guilt for his guest. Who knew that the ex-champ was going to be here. He had always been difficult to deal with. He was going to recommend to Rodger, the owner, that he be permanently banned from here. Edward stopped in the middle of the room, glancing at the decor. Carefully encircling those small shoulder's with his arm, Russell guided Edward to the couch, and had him sit.

Those wonderful golden eyes—were they always that color, he wondered—looked up into his face. Running his hand through his hair, Russell turned and strode over to the desk. Pulling open the bottom drawer, he rummaged about before producing the first aid kit. He brought the kit with him, setting it on the side table and sat on the arm of the couch. Titling Edward's head to the side, Russell picked through the contents, looking for the disinfectant.

When he turned back, Edward was shaking...hard. It didn't surprise him that Edward was reacting thus. He was so shy, it was probably his first time being in a fight. The adrenaline was just now catching up with what had happened to him. Sliding down the arm, Russell sat with Edward, his folded leg just brushing against the shaking boy.

Edward enfolded his hands together, pressing the palms tight, in an effort to still his quakes. His mind was strangely blank, as if waiting for him to tell it that it could work again.

Russell dabbed a gauze sheet with disinfectant cream and lightly started to clean Edward's cheek. Those golden eyes darted to the side fixing on him for a moment before they returned to his lap. Removing a flesh colored patch bandage, that didn't match Edward's lightly tanned skin from the kit, he placed it over Edward's scrape wound. The small blond winced when Russell pushed the edges firmly to make sure it didn't fall off.

"Edward..."

Edward's eyes skipped over Russell a moment before falling back to his lap. He jaw worked, making his neck ripple as it flexed.

"I w-w-wanna learn-n-n how t-t-to fight-t." Edward stuttered through chattering teeth. This had just proved to him how weak he really was. No wonder Winry didn't pay any attention to him.

"Are you sure?" Russell pulled the boy to his chest, rubbing his back in slow, hopefully soothing, circles. At the shaky nod on his chest, Russell sagged. "I'm sorry this had to happen to you. If only I had noticed that he was here--"

"S-s-okay." interrupted Edward. He sniffled as the emotions started to catch up to him as well. He didn't want to cry, but his eyes were leaking anyway. "I-I've never b-been in a fight b-b-before." his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, sniffling back the approaching tide.

"I know. I'm so sorry Edward, I promise to make it up to you." Russell laughed, humorlessly. "I had meant for this to be a fun night. Watch a fight, drink a little, some dancing."

They fell silent. Each of them thinking about what could have happened. Slowly Edward's shaking began to slow, and the rush of emotion eased.

The door was pushed in, and a man in his fifties peeked around the door. "How is he Russell?"

Edward shifted, looking at the speaker from his position on Russell's chest.

"He'll be alright. He was just startled. Any trouble getting Adaba out of here?"

"No. I'm going to go ahead with the fight. Any objections?"

"No, go ahead, Rodger."

Nodding Rodger closed the door leaving them alone once more. Russell continued to hold Edward. He was enjoying the way he fit in his arms, and he loved the wraith like body he had. Edward began to squirm in his arms, so tried to make him more comfortable. He subtly move Edward around so that he was leaning against him easier.

"Um...Russell? What are you doing?" Edward shifted, but Russell held him in place. The slight pressure from Russell's hand on his shoulder stopping him from sitting up.

"What?"

"Er...your hand..." Edward looked down and Russell copied him. There, on Edward's hip very close to Edward's groin, Russell's hand was working steadily closer as he kneaded the muscles. Edward's face grew hot as he watched those fingers still, and he felt Russell tense.

"Oops." Russell hastily removed his hand, and Edward sat up. "Listen, do you want me to take you home, or do you want to stay out? What do you want to do?" Russell completely ignored where his hand had almost gone, and focused on a safer subject.

"Um...Let's walk along the river," suggested Edward. He didn't want to be around all these people anymore.

"Sure. Let's go now, okay?" Russell stood and held out his hand to hoist Edward to his feet.

Smiling, Edward gripped his wrist and stood. He wondered what his da would think about what had happened tonight. Maybe he shouldn't tell him until he was home, because his da might make him come home, and then he would have to leave his first real friend.

-- To be continued --


	4. Chapter 03

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

Thanks to ZaKai for reading and correcting my mistakes throughout this chapter...and of course, listening to my whining about my insecurities.

(1) - a history, and video of Capoeira can be found on my profile.

**Chapter 3**

"Edward, hey! What are you doing for lunch? Wanna come with us?" Russell called as soon as he entered the room.

"Ah, I got to work through, I'm behind," Edward looked up as Russell and his friend Fletcher made their way around his crowded work space. Russell had been extra nice to him since that night at the club. It was a bit overwhelming how much the guy seemed to care. Edward just brushed it off, Russell was just being friendly. "Where are you going?"

"To that café 'round the corner," Russell punched his arm lightly in greeting.

"Awww! I love that place," whined Edward, thrusting out his bottom lip. He slumped on his stool. They had the _best_ sandwiches...

"Ha ha, and the waitress loves you, too," teased Fletcher.

Edward blushed hard, and picked at his scabbed cheek. On Monday, his first day back to work since his scrap at the club, he seemed to have become a mascot for the other employees. Now everyone was coming up to say 'hi' and asking him to re-tell every detail of what had happened to him. They seemed to love to hear how he, the small fry, took down the ex-champ in one hit. Even the waitress at his favorite café had fawned all over him. She wouldn't shut up about his messed up face.

Four days later and it still hadn't died down. It was a bit over whelming. From ignored to celebrity...Fletcher was his newest acquaintance. The twenty-year-old was a few inches shorter then Russell, but he still managed to tower over Edward. He really hoped that Russell was wrong about the fact that he was done growing. He would like to be able to look Winry in the eyes, and not have her look down on him...literally.

The shaggy blond hair on Fletcher's head and the bright blue eyes got him attention where ever he went. Somehow he was able to walk down the street and get five phone numbers from passing women without even so much as a word from his lips. It was baffling. Edward had started to surreptitiously watch him for pointers.

Although the two of them denied it, Russell was not related to Fletcher, but to Edward, they shared so many similarities, it seemed strange. The 'we're good friends' didn't capture the way the acted around one another. There was an intimacy there that went deeper then friends...Well, he hadn't figured that one out just yet, but he was sure he'd hear about it sooner or later.

"She does not," denied Edward. Placing his good elbow on the table, he cradled his face and poked at the book in front of him. The elbow on his other arm was turning an impressive shade of purple from knocking into the ring. He secretly liked taking off his long sleeve shirt so that people would remark about it to him.

"Leave off, Fletcher, your embarrassing our wee fighter, here. Want anything from the café?" Russell asked. He looked down expectantly at Edward.

"I'm not _wee_!" growled Edward. He sucked on his teeth. Now that every one knew what happened, they were all calling him things like 'small' or 'tiny'; whatever they called him, it pissed him off. If it didn't stop soon he was going to start hurting people.

"How about a _small_ sandwich?" teased Fletcher, laughing and catching onto Russell's teasing.

Jumping off his stool, Edward stomped his foot at Fletcher. "Who the _hell_ are you calling small?" he demanded, shaking his fist at him threateningly. One more comment and he would lose it.

Laughing, Russell stepped in between the two boys. "We'll bring you back a huge sandwich then. Laters," Russell pulled a still laughing Fletcher with him, and waved over his shoulder.

Grumbling, Edward hopped back up onto his stool. Time to push through this mess.

* * *

"Are you sure _this_ is the one?" Russell looked around at the run down, dilapidated state of the gym. He'd seen worse of course, but this was bad. The paint was cracked and whole expanses of wall were bare with only the gray concrete as its sole decoration.

The Brazilian flag was hung against the back wall. Its faded, neglected state, a comment on the neglected state of the gym, even the surrounding buildings in the neighborhood. There was no one in sight, and Russell was feeling nervous about being here.

"Look, there's no one here. Let's come back later," he pulled on Edward's arm.

"HELLO? BONJOUR!" cupping his hands over his mouth, Edward bellowed at the back of the gym. Yanking his arm out of Russell's hold, he toed off his shoes and walked across the concrete floor. At the back of the gym, there were shelves of strange looking instruments and drums. He picked up one of the gourd like objects with a stick coming out the top of it. A single taunt string, attached to the bottom, went up to the bow like stick. Edward plucked at the instrument, making him smile.

"Oui, oui, here I am. What can I do for you? And for 'you', I mean for me," said a chuckling, tall, lanky Asian man, with long deep black hair gathered at the base of his neck, coming out of a door along the back wall near Edward. He looked down at the small blond, holding the instrument and then over to the front door where Russell stood, with his arms folded across his chest, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.

"I wanna join," Edward gushed. "When's the first class? Can I do some now?" his eyes shone with his excitement. He had found this place on the Internet, and even though Russell had pointed out that it wasn't in a really good part of the city, he didn't care. The whole style, the inverted, dance like quality of it...it was sort of like his dance lessons he took as a kid.

"Oh, good. I like having new students. I like money too. Um, well class isn't until six, but if you want to try it..." the man squinted down at his wrist watch, and then at Edward and his bright hair.

"I DO!" Edward put the instrument back on the shelf and bounced in place. This guy seemed a bit unusual...but whatever, Edward shrugged mentally.

"And your friend too?" the Asian man said pointing at Russell in a slow and lazy gesture.

"Yes, him too." Edward grinned at Russell, pleased that he had someone to invite, and even happier that Russell had said yes to coming with him.

"Uh, Edward, I told you I'm not good at this flippy stuff, I don't think Capoeira (1) is really..." Russell shifted his weight and trailed off, unsure.

"It's fine, right?" Edward turned to the man standing beside him, seeking assurance for his friend.

"Yeah, sure." The Asian man's eyes widened at the open display of enthusiasm. "Class doesn't start for twenty minutes. You can go in the changing room to get ready, then come out and do some stretching."

Russell sat down on the bench by the door and removed his shoes, placing them neatly to the side, and walked across the gym to stand beside Edward. The Asian man pointed behind him to the corridor heading towards the back of the building. Nodding, Edward led the way to the changing room. He had worn his baggy shorts under his pants, but Russell had brought a large bag filled with a change of clothes and all his toiletries to make him pretty after the work out. Edward had rolled his eyes when he heard that.

Not bothering to wait for Russell, Edward was back in the gym as soon as his pants were hung on the peg in the changing room. The Asian man was sitting on the floor with his legs wide apart, stretching. Suddenly feeling shy again, Edward looked over his shoulder, hoping that Russell would be behind him.

"Hey, come here," the Asian man said beckoning him closer.

Edward sat on the floor with his legs crossed, in front of the man.

"My name's Ling. I'm the instructor here. Ever do martial arts before?"

"No, I haven't," Edward shifted uneasily on the hard floor. He let his eyes rest on the floor between them. He couldn't really bring himself to look the other in the eye.

"Can you do a cartwheel, or a somersault?" Ling watched the boy stare at his hands.

"Yeah."

"Could you show me, please? A cartwheel," Ling asked, sensing that this boy was shy, but he had to asses his ability and comfort level of being inverted.

Edward took a moment to will away his butterflies, before he got up and moved into the center of the room. Blushing because he was being watched, he flipped easily around, keeping his body nice and straight, landing on the other side perfectly.

"Nice," said Ling admiringly. "Can you do that with out hands?"

Edward's eyes widened. With out hands...eh? Pressing his lips in thought, Edward pictured what he would have to do. Shrugging, he threw his body upside-down, leaving his hands by his side, landing in his original spot.

"Very good. Did you take gymnastics?" Ling pulled his legs together and then into his chest.

"No. Do you think I should?" Edward asked, smoothing his hair away from his face; he watched as Ling stood.

Ling shook his head no. "Ah! Here comes your friend."

Russell smiled as he walked into the room. "I still think that this won't be my thing Edward."

"Looks like Edward's a natural. Try this," said Ling. He motioned for Edward to copy him. He stood beside Edward and spread his leg just over shoulder width apart. Edward spread his legs, distributing the weight as Ling did. Russell crossed the gym, taking up a position on the other side of Edward, and mirrored their stances.

"In Capoeira we move like this," Ling stepped back with his left foot, paused then switched feet. Edward and Russell tried the steps. With painful slowness they began to get a feel for the movement. "Good. Yes, it's like that. Now try it faster," Ling said upping the tempo.

Russell caught on to the faster pace quickly, but Edward faltered. Pealing his lips back at himself, Edward stopped and waited for the next step and then jumped back in. The phone in the office at the back of the gym began to ring, as they all started to have a synchronized pace.

"Good. Relax for a bit. I got to get that." Ling moved away to the office, shutting the door.

"This is going to be so cool!" Edward gushed, grinning up at Russell's rolling eyes.

* * *

Edward closed the door to his apartment, and dropped his bag on the floor. His whole body was achy and sore from the workout, but it was a good ache. Toeing off his shoes, Edward shuffled over to his small kitchenette and pulled down a glass from the cupboard, filling it to the top with water from the tap. Gulping down the warm water, Edward gasped and slammed the glass on to the counter as he finished.

Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out the pamphlet from the Capoeira club. Turning around, he leaned against the counter and looked into the living room, where he had hung a cork board for all the places he'd been too. There was a card from the club where he got roughed up, a napkin from the café he liked near work, and dominating the middle of the board, in full color, was a picture from a magazine he found in Paris with Winry on its cover.

Feeling like he was betraying his father, he had rushed to buy the expensive magazine, leaving him short on cash until payday. He didn't care, this was Winry after all. A month and a half in Paris did nothing to dull his feelings for her. No matter what, he would continue to love Winry.

Shuffling over to his board, Edward pulled out a tack and pinned the pamphlet off to the side of Winry's face. He wondered what she was up too these days. His father would not tell him anything about her no matter how he'd beg. Da kept telling him to worry about himself, but he worried about her.

Running his finger tips around her printed cheek, Edward shook his head. On some level he knew that his love for her was wrong, but that was so far beneath his conscious thoughts and feelings, that is wasn't even relevant. She was just...so beautiful that it hurt sometimes. He knew even as a kid, that he wanted to be with her, even if she was out of his league.

He just... Sighing, Edward ran his hand through his hair, he just didn't know how to win her over. He had zero experience with women, and no clue how to make himself more date worthy. He figured that was why he wore the baggy indistinct clothes, since he was invisible to her, why not be that way to everyone. It worked so well that all throughout school he didn't have one friend.

Now, though, he had Russell, and it seemed that he really liked being around him. It felt great to be one of the guys, and Russell was always asking what he wanted to do, for lunch or after work. It was great. When he wrote home this week he was going to tell da all about his new buddy, and how they went to the gym together. He was sure that da would be thrilled to hear that he was starting to fit in now.

Although he had a laptop, Edward and his father preferred to send hand written mail back and forth. In a salute to the old ways, just as in some of his da's most beloved books, they chose pen over keystroke. After his shower from his workout, Edward was going to start his weekly letter home.

Fingering the magazine cover one more time, Edward spun on his heel and headed for the shower.

* * *

"Edward, you better watch out, Paninya's out looking for you," said Fletcher, as he rushed into the room. He stopped dead when he didn't immediately see him right away. "Edward?"

"Where is he? Is he in here?" Paninya came striding into the room, on Fletcher's heels. "Where is the little shrimp?" pushing the man out of the way, she gave the room a brief once over. Narrowing her eyes at Fletcher she strode back out of the room, when she didn't find the boy. Her high heals could be heard clicking down the hallway.

"Where ever you are, stay hidden for God's sake." Fletcher mumbled, and left as well.

* * *

"Russell? Where do I put these?" Edward tried to look around the tall stack of paper in his arms. "Russell!" he yelled this time. The stack was heavy dammit. Grumbling under his breath that Russell could put them where ever the hell he wanted, Edward slid the stack on to the table along the wall. Bending back to work the kink out of his lower back, Edward turned around and headed for the door.

He walked right into the hard flat chest as he rounded the corner.

"Ow," Edward rubbed his squished nose. He took a step back, and looked up into Russell's smiling face. "Be careful," he admonished.

"Sorry," Russell chuckled, "I didn't _see_ you there."

Edward snorted and rolled his eyes. "That's so old. Later," he stepped around his friend.

"Wait," Russell grabbed Edward's upper arm, halting him. "I need a word with you." nodding to his work room, Russell let Edward's arm drop and preceded him into the room.

Shrugging, Edward went back into the room and closed the door. "What's up?" Russell motioned Edward to his stool. Frowning, he pulled himself up, turning to face Russell who was leaning against the table, mere inches from Edward's knee.

"Edward...do you have any plans for tonight?" Russell had to know. He was sure that he was getting signals, but he had to know. This was the only way he could find out.

"No, why?" Edward looked up into his friend's face. He seemed to have something on his mind. Was Russell mad that he asked him to the club the other day? He seemed like he had wanted to go...

"It's Friday, wanna try going to a house party? I was going to suggest a nightclub...but..."

"Yeah, I don't think I am ready for a bar, but a house party sounds good!" Edward smiled, relieved that he wasn't mad at him. He didn't want Russell to continue to feel bad about that. He touched his scabbed cheek at the thought of that night at the club.

"Good, then I'll pick you up at your place, and no baggy clothes." Russell adverted his eyes, not wanting to look at Edward while he touched his wound. "Give me your address before you leave tonight."

Edward frowned and jumped off the stool, "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

Just before Edward opened the door, "Oh, and watch out for Paninya, she's looking for you," Russell told him. That woman had it in for Edward for some reason. He just couldn't fathom it.

"What? Ah, shit! Can I hide out here?" begged Edward, folding his hands in front of his face. "Pretty please?" he batted his eyes at Russell, knowing that he was weak against it. It certainly worked when he was pleading for him to come to the gym with him.

"Well I suppose there are a few papers that fell on the floor, and I can't quite reach them since I'm too bi--" a smirk slid across Russell's face at the thought.

"Wha—bastard!" Edward rushed across the room and threw a few fake punches, in mock outrage. Russell batted him away easily. After their trip to the Capoiera club, Russell had told him that he had studied boxing when he was Edward's age; which led Edward to ask how old Russell was now. He did not look twenty-three to Edward, that was for sure, he looked eighteen, if that.

Russell caught a sloppy left punch in his palm and spun Edward around, using the smaller boy's own arm to make a choke hold. He stepped up behind Edward and lightly inhaled his scent. He _had_ meant to wait until tonight, to see if Edward was truly interested in him, but now, with him so close...

"Hey! What the hell?" Edward squirmed, trying to tug his arm free, but Russell quickly stopped his efforts by reaching across his chest, trapping his other arm under his, at his side.

"Edward..." Russell murmured as he leaned in close to his right ear, his breath tickling the outer shell.

Edward gasped at the unexpected and intimate intrusion into his personal space. What was happening here? His stomach flipped as Russell slipped a hand inside his open button down to kneed his chest and ribs through his t-shirt.

"Edward..." husked Russell again. He leaned in to nuzzle behind the blond's ear. He was enamored with the smell of his shampoo ever since that night at the club. He began to get hard if he caught a whiff of it after Edward had passed him or stood too close. "I know we haven't talked about something like this, but you're...I can't..."

Edward reached across and gently pulled Russell's wondering hand away. Russell dropped the hold Edward's other hand hesitantly. Turning around, Edward took a step back looking up in to his friend's face. The silence dragged out as he studied Russell's face, trying to make sense of this new twist.

"Say something," Russell pleaded, his voice small and barely audible. His face was lined with worry.

Edward swallowed. His thoughts which had been still and quiet suddenly raced. He hadn't thought of himself as gay, or liking guys, since he was in love with Winry, but then there was the fact that she had _never_ given him the time of day.

He did like Russell, but could he like him like that? He wasn't sure he could picture himself kissing a guy either. He knew that girls turned him on, or at least Winry did. He had never gotten a boner from looking at a nude guy. Plus, if he were to get involved with Russell what would happen if they had a fight? They worked together, and he was his only close friend.

"I don't know..." Edward's voice shook with confusion and he took a step back. "I don't know," he yelled, whirling around Edward flew at the door, the pressure to answer too much for his jumbled mind right now. He could only do what had worked for him in the past, run.

He tried not to see the hurt that was on Russell's face before he had turned. He just didn't know! He threw open the door, making it bounce off the wall, and ran down the hall, seeking a place to hide.

-- To be continued --


	5. Chapter 04

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

Thanks ZaKai for all your hard work on this story. You have managed to keep me focused, while forcing me to work ever harder to supply you with the next installment before you 'scratch' my eyes out in frustration. Hahaha. You rock Chicky!

**Chapter 4**

Fletcher looked down at the piece of paper in his hands once more, confirming that this was indeed the correct address. He shook his head at this whole situation. Russell could really be an ass sometimes, but he felt bad for him, so that's why he was here on this errand now.

Pulling open the heavy glass door to the apartment building, Fletcher scanned the residents living in the building looking for the missing Edward's apartment number.

"Ah!" Finally locating it towards the bottom, Fletcher stabbed his finger on the button and held it there. He didn't want Edward to think he could ignore him.

"_What the FUCK!"_ came Edward's annoyed electronic voice from the small panel beside his finger a few moments later.

Releasing the buzzer, Fletcher smiled at his reaction. Just what he was hopping for. "It's Fletcher. I'm coming up. Buzz me in."

"_The hell you are, piss off! I don't want to see you!"_ the speaker crackled at him.

"You wound me. Let me up, or I'll stand here all day pressing your buttons," Fletcher smiled at the double meaning.

He could hear Edward growl into the speaker and the security door clicked open. Fletcher chose the stairs over the elevator, he wanted his little 'spitfire' to stew somewhat before he got there, wondering why Fletcher had come over for in the middle of a work day. The stairway was narrow as it typically was for all old buildings in Paris, but Fletcher admired the well-cared-for neglect of the place.

As he set foot on Edward's floor, Fletcher looked both ways trying to sort out which way to go. Left, Edward's place was to the left. Walking slowly down the worn carpeted hall, he came to a stop outside of Edward's door and took a moment to listen. It was strangely quiet inside. Maybe Edward was listening for him as well. Shrugging his shoulders, Fletcher raised his hand and knocked on the wooden door. On a whim he placed his finger over the peep hole.

"I'm sick! What the hell do you want?" Edward exclaimed as he flung open the door to glare at the smirking man in front of him.

Fletcher's smirk disappeared as he looked down on the angry man in front of him. So, it wasn't a lie. When Edward had called in sick the day after Russell's clumsy confession, they had thought it was to avoid seeing Russell at work. "Oh..."

"'Oh?' What? Did you think I was fuckin' lying?" Edward demanded, glaring. He brought a tissue up to his nose and wiped at it, still glaring at Fletcher. He pulled at his pajama bottoms, settling them higher on his hips.

"Well the thought had crossed our minds..." Fletcher trailed off. "Are you going to invite me in?"

Pressing his lips together in a thin line, Edward opened the door all the way for Fletcher to pass.

"Thanks." Fletcher crossed into the foyer and toed off his shoes, before moving into the living room. There was a small nest of blankets and used tissues all over the floor by the couch. He wisely chose to sit in the padded arm chair over disturbing the 'sick zone'.

"Want anything?" Edward asked from the arch way to the living room.

"Tea?"

Nodding, Edward went into the kitchenette and pulled out a small kettle and filled it with water. He reached up and pulled down a single mug and placed a tea bag in the cup. "Milk? Sugar?" Edward looked over his shoulder at the man sitting stiffly in his chair.

"Black, please," said Fletcher.

They fell silent as Edward waited for the water to boil. Fletcher watched his back as he stood facing the kettle rather then look at him. _He must be peeved_, Fletcher figured as he studied Edward's back, _that I came all this way, but Russell's beside himself with worry_. He had to do something.

The kettle began to whistle as the water rolled and bubbled inside. Unplugging the pot, Edward filled the mug with hot water, and walked carefully across the room to hand the cup to his guest. His duties as host now fulfilled, he flopped back on top of his blankets, pulling them back around his legs.

Fletcher set the mug aside on the coffee table to cool, and met Edward's unhappy face. "I suppose you know why I'm here."

"Russell," Edward stated. He looked down into his lap.

"Yeah, you know, he's really upset that he's lost your friendship." Fletcher watched closely for Edward's reaction. He was goading him into reacting, but he needed to be clear on what Edward felt about Russell.

Edward looked up shocked. "He didn't...it's just...did he tell you?" he finished lamely.

"Yeah. He's clumsy like that sometimes. He wanted to come here himself, but I thought...just in case you were mad at him, I should come first." Fletcher settled back into the chair, happy with what he saw on Edward's face; a clear indication that Edward would not be ignoring Russell forever.

Edward shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "I'm not...mad. I'm just... See that girl over there?" Edward pointed across the room at his cork broad.

Turning around in his chair, Fletcher looked behind him at the framed tack broad hanging on the wall. Scooting out of his chair, he crossed over to the wall to take a closer look. "Hey I know her! She's hot."

Edward nodded. Winry was famous after all. "Well, I live...near her. I have feelings for her," he mumbled into his lap.

"You're rich and you live here?" Fletcher turned around, perplexed. The flat was nice, but if he had that kind of money he should be in a heck of lot bigger place then this closet.

Edward sighed. "I didn't really want to get into this," he looked away. "My da works for the Mustangs. I'm the son of 'the help'."

Fletcher remained silent when he noticed Edward's tone of embarrassment. He didn't think it right that rich people would still, in this day and age, look down on others. It was so wrong, and Fletcher felt a pang of anger for his friend.

"I'm in love with her. So..." Edward tailed off, and continued to stare at the wall.

"Russell was a bit of a shock," Fletcher finished the sentence for him. He quirked an eyebrow at the small blond on the couch.

"Yeah."

"Last I heard, she was dating some dude from Greece," Fletcher turned back to studied the picture, as well as the other items Edward had placed there.

"Him and everyone else."

Fletcher glanced back at Edward. He heard the bitterness in Edward's voice, he also heard the longing, and his heart went out to the small boy. Everyone had been there at some point in there lives, himself included. The silence stretched out once more, as Fletcher contemplated the tack board.

"Russell will be glad to hear that you'll still be friends." Fletcher came back and sat down in his chair after a few minutes had passed in silence. He reached out and took to mug from the coffee table and sipped at the warm liquid. "Can I give you his number, so that you can talk with him?"

Edward sighed again; he knew he had to deal with this. The phone might be the best way. "Yeah, I'll call tonight." Extracting himself from the blankets, Edward walked into the other room. Fletcher could hear him rummaging around, and he reemerged with a pad of paper and a pencil. Somehow, even though they had hung out together, Edward and Russell had yet to exchange numbers. They had always made plans at work and met up somewhere else.

Fletcher took the offered pad and scribbled down Russell's number in his small spidery hand. He handed the pad back and stood. "Well, I better get going."

"How did you find my place anyway?" wondered Edward, placing the pad and pencil on the coffee table for later.

"Ha ha, we bullied the secretary into giving it to us. I hope you don't mind?" Fletcher added as an afterthought. He moved around the coffee table and headed to the door.

"No, not really." Edward followed behind Fletcher to stand in the arch way of the door and watched him slip his feet into his shoes.

"Okay, well I hope your feeling better soon." Fletcher put his hand on the door handle, "later."

"Bye." Edward closed the door as Fletcher walked down the hall. Now he could relax and sleep on the couch till tonight, then he'd have to talk with Russell...

* * *

As he stepped onto the sidewalk, Fletcher pulled out his cell phone and clicked through his phone book, looking for Russell's cell number. As soon as he found it he hit the send button and put the phone to his ear. He didn't have to wait long for Russell to pick up.

"_Hello?"_

"Hey, it's me. He really _was_ sick." Fletcher strolled down the sidewalk towards the metro.

"_No shit? Jeez, do I feel like an ass now."_

"He said he'd call tonight." Fletcher crossed the street. He smiled at a pretty woman dressed in a form fitting, black dress and stiletto heels that was walking towards him. She smiled back.

"_Great! What else did he say?"_

"That he lived with the Mustangs." Fletcher turned around to watch the woman's behind as she moved further up the street.

"_He's rich?"_

"No, just a 'son of the help' as he put it." Fletcher could hear the shock in Russell's voice as he thought about Edward being rich. He was taken aback at that as well. Even more so, now that he knew that Edward had lived so close to Winry Mustang. "He's got a picture of Winry tacked to a broad in his living room. I don't think you'll get very far with this one. He seems really caught up with her."

"_Hmm..."_

"Of course, it's up to you how far you'll pursue this, but I suggest that you lay off for a while, whatever you decide."

"_Yeah. Thanks for doing this Fletcher, I owe you."_

"You better believe it! Anyway, I'm about to go underground, so I'll see you back at work."

"_Right."_

* * *

Edward blinked and tried to focus in the darkness of his apartment. Lifting his head from the pillow he reached for the remote to his small fourteen inch TV that was resting on the coffee table in front of him. In his grogginess he sent the remote skittering off the table and onto the floor as his hand blindly knocked it.

"Fuuuck..." he mumbled and pushed himself into a sitting position. Running a hand through his messy hair, Edward stretched the kinks out of his back from sleeping on the couch. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he kicked the blankets onto the floor and trudged to the bathroom in order to relive his bladder.

Now empty, he shuffled back to the couch. His body was feeling worse, if that was possible. Falling into the middle of the couch, Edward stared at the blank TV screen. He had to do something, he was pretty sure about that, but he couldn't remember what it was. Looking down, he searched for the remote, but he didn't want to move to look for it, so he tried to find it with his eyes.

After a while, he began to notice that he was staring at the pad of paper that was lying on the edge of the coffee table. Too lazy to move his upper body, he reached out with his toe, and dragged the pad towards him.

"Oh yeah..." Edward picked up the pad and looked down at Fletcher's writing. He didn't really feel up to that call now, but he had promised.

Pushing himself upright, Edward walked to the kitchenette and pulled the cordless phone from the charger, and brought it back with him to the couch. Adjusting the blankets so that they would cover his legs, he dialed the number on the sheet and waited for Russell to pick up.

"_Hello?"_

"Is--" Edward stopped to clear his raspy throat, "is Russell there, please."

"_Edward?"_

"Um, yeah...Russell?" Edward didn't recognize his voice, but that could be because his ears were all clogged up.

"_Hey, you sound like shit."_

"Mm--" Edward tried to clear the frogs from his throat again. "Fletcher came to see me today."

"_Yeah, was that okay? More importantly, are you okay? Do you want me to get you anything?"_

"Maybe...but later, about the other day..." Edward's heart was beating hard and slow in his chest, thumping painfully with each pulse. Thank God, he was on the phone, if he was well and doing this in person, he'd probably die from shame.

"_Ah, I know, I'm sorry Edward. I'm such an ass...but I thought that, what with how you allowed me to hold you at the club, and then when we went to the café, the way you hid behind me from that waitress...I got the wrong impression. I totally understand if you don't want to hang out with me anymore. I deserve it, but I want you to know that I think you're an awesome guy, and I really enjoy hanging out with you. I'll totally understand if you're too uncomfortable to be around me anymore--"_

Edward's body felt light and weak as he listened to Russell's fast, spilling words. He leaned his head into the back of the couch and stared at the ceiling.

"_--I'll totally understand if you want to punch me out--"_

"Russell--"

"_--It'll be okay, I can take it--"_

"Russe--" Edward choked as the urge to cough wracked his body. Lifting his head off the back of the couch, he leaned forward and tried to expel one of his lungs. When the attack passed, Edward flopped to the side onto his pillow and breathed shallowly through his mouth.

"_Jesus, are you okay? That sounded wicked."_

"Yeah," Edward croaked. "I forgive you, I won't be punching you, and we're still friends. Okay? Now I'm going to go back to sleep. I'll talk to you later," Edward mumbled, his energy almost all gone.

"_Can I come over and bring you some soup?"_

"Okay. Tomorrow," Edward closed his eyes. "Bye."

"_Good night, Edward. Get well soon."_

Edward clicked the phone off and let it fall to the floor. He was so tried, and his body had that slow, tingly weak feeling. He hated getting sick in the summer time. _It must be from all this Paris food,_ Edward thought fuzzily as he drifted back into a deep sleep.

* * *

Edward rolled over and looked down his body at the front door, and the pounding going on the other side of it. The bright light from the living room windows dropped down to the wood floor heating it in patches. Wearily, he kicked off the blankets and swung his feet to the floor. He quickly got to his feet and shuffled over to the door, pulling up his pajama bottoms as he went. Opening the door, he smiled weakly at Russell.

"I brought soup and drugs," Russell held up the carton of soup in one hand and the paper drug store bag in the other.

"Cool, come in," Edward shuffled back towards the couch, leaving the open door for Russell to take care of. He blinked at the sudden headache and stars that swam over his vision, making everything else fade. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears as his legs folded up under him, and he crumbled to the floor in a boneless heap.

"Whoa," Russell placed his items on the floor and rushed to Edward's side. "Are you okay?" he placed a hand on Edward's shoulder, noting the extremely pale complexion on the blond.

Edward blinked at the white and black patches that started to fade from the edge of his vision. He brought a weak hand to his head rubbed at his eyes. "I got up too fast."

"I guess you did. Can you stand?" Russell looked over to the couch and the growing pile of tissue and the mass of blankets.

"Not yet, I'll rest here a bit," mumbled Edward.

"Okay, be right back," Russell closed the apartment door, and picked up his bags, placing them on the kitchen counter. He checked over his shoulder to make sure Edward was okay, and saw that he had folded his legs under him Indian style and was watching him move about the kitchenette in a daze. Turning back around, Russell began searching through the cupboards for a bowl for the soup.

"Next one," Edward lifted his hand slowly and pointed at the last cupboard. His ears were buzzing and his head felt much too light.

Moving over to the last cupboard, Russell reached in and pulled out a bowl. He filled it with half the soup and put the remainder in the fridge. Rooting through the drawers he located a spoon, and plunked it into the soup. "Okay...tray?" Russell asked, looking over his shoulder once more.

"No..." Edward mumbled.

"Right," Russell picked up the bowl and walked slowly over to the coffee table and nudging a few use tissues aside, he plunked the bowl down on top of a dog eared magazine. He crossed back over to Edward, who was still sitting on the floor. Under the circumstances, Russell thought it best to ask. "Can I help you up?"

Edward looked up into his blue eyes, knowing full well that he was asking for Edward's consent to touch him, but he really didn't feel up to standing. "Um, I better crawl...I don't think I can handle it."

Russell tried to keep his face passive. "Okay." He watched as Edward rolled on to his hands and knees, and made his slow, shaky way back to the couch. Russell followed behind, trying hard not to stare at Edward's behind and the low riding pajama bottoms. Instead of climbing up on to the couch, Edward sat down, pressing his back into the edge, looking worn out and tired.

Moving around to the other side of the coffee table, Russell slid the magazine with the soup on it closer to Edward and took possession of the padded chair next to the couch.

Edward sighed, looking at the soup and the warm steam drifting upwards. _It's too far_, he thought, even though it was practically under his nose. He turned his head to look at his friend, and saw that he was watching him, his eyebrow raised in a silent question. Edward's answer was to blink and let his head roll down to rest on his chest.

"Are you going to make me feed you?" asked Russell his voice full of humor.

"I'm...not...hungry," mumbled Edward, without raising his head. The call of slumber was making his lids heavy, and his words slow.

Sliding off the chair, Russell kicked the discarded tissues aside and sat down beside Edward. He tucked his leg nearest to the small blond, under him and let his other leg stretch out under the coffee table. Taking the bowl of soup off the table he held it under Edward's face and lifted the spoon. He blew on the soup to cool it before nudging Edward's lips for him to take a sip.

Edward took the spoon into his mouth and swallowed. Russell smiled to himself and repeated the process again. He was able to get three more spoonfuls into the sick teenager before he shook his head at any more. It was a start at least.

"I think we should put you to bed, not the couch," placing the bowl back on the table, Russell folded his legs under him and stood. "Can you make it into the bedroom?" He held his hand out. "Trust me?"

Looking up into Russell's face, Edward reached out with a heavy hand to weakly clasp Russell's wrist. He was so tired now that even if he had doubts about Russell and his motives towards him, he didn't care. He was pulled to his feet, and Russell threw an arm around his shoulders, walking him to the bedroom. The extra support was appreciated because another round of vertigo threatened to drop him to the ground. The arm around him tightened its hold.

Russell backed him towards the bed and eased him to the mattress. He tugged the blankets out from under his body, and Edward pulled himself up to lay his head on the pillow with a sigh. The sheets were so nice and cool against his skin. He rolled over on to his side and tucked one hand under the pillow and his other one under his chin, letting his eyes close with a sigh.

Shaking out the blankets, Russell drew the covers up to Edward's chin. "Edward?" he whispered. Was he asleep already?

"...Hmm?" Edward cracked an eye to look at the man standing over him.

"I'll stay awhile okay? In case you need me," reaching out a hand Russell smoothed away the hair that fell into Edward's face.

"M...'kay..." rolling over, Edward curled up and with a soft sigh drifted off to sleep.

-- To be continued --


	6. Chapter 05

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

Thanks to ZaKai for reading this over, and finding the time in her busy schedule to look this over and correct my mistakes.

(1) – A made up tournament for the purposes of this story. As we go along I'll explain more about the rules and such.

**Chapter 5**

"Hey! Edward! Back among the living eh?" Fletcher yelled, waving across the foyer at the approaching teenager.

Looking up from watching his feet, Edward searched the milling people looking for the caller. He still felt like shit, but he'd been gone for a whole week of work, and didn't feel comfortable missing anymore time. He was glad that Russell had come over when he did, because his temperature had spiked and he wouldn't have been able to care for himself.

Russell had even gone so far as to ask for the day off to look after him. Ed was mortified that Russell had seen him at his worse like that, and it really shocked him too. To go so far for him...even after he'd rejected him like that. He'd have to look for something he could do in order to repay him somehow.

"Edward! Over here!" Fletcher called again.

Looking to the right he saw Fletcher waving at him over the heads of the morning work crowd. Smiling, Edward trotted over to him. As he stopped in front of Fletcher, he had to pause and catch his breath and coughed hard into his hand leaving him even more out of breath.

"Are you sure you should be here?" Fletcher asked quirking an eyebrow in question, studying the wheezing boy in front of him.

Clearing his throat of phlegm, Edward stood. "Yeah...I can't miss any more days," he said as he cleared his throat once more trying to make his voice less harsh and gravelly.

"Whatever, it's your funeral." Fletcher walked towards the back of the building, glancing back after a few steps to make sure that Edward was following him.

Trailing behind Fletcher, Edward dug through his pockets looking for the tissues he'd stashed there. Peeling off a sheet, he wrapped it around his nose and blew vigorously. He'd have to remember to pick up a few more boxes of tissue on the way home.

He couldn't wait to be well again, he really wanted to go back to that gym and do some more Capoeira. Right now, about all he could do would be to snot his opponent to death. Also, he wanted to ask Russell to teach him boxing, since Capoeira wasn't really strong with the hand skills, like at _all_.

His shoulders fell forward. Well, hopefully the medication Russell had left at his house would be enough to get him through today, and if he was feeling up to it, maybe...maybe he would be feeling well enough to go to class tonight.

"Fletcher!"

Both Edward and Fletcher looked up the marble stairway to see a stunning brunette woman waving down at them. Fletcher turned around and winked at Edward.

"Who's that?" asked Edward, openly staring.

"She works in the office. Met her when we went to get your address. I gotta go, later," Fletcher lightly punched Edward's shoulder and ran up the stairs.

Edward watched from the bottom of the steps and took in Fletcher's body language as he talked to the girl. He was relaxed and gesturing easily as if he wasn't nervous at all. If that was him, he'd be tense and sweaty. Shaking his head at what he couldn't change, Edward climbed the stairs, looking up every now and then to see what Fletcher was doing.

As he got near, the girl slipped her hand into Fletcher's and led him away. _How the hell did he do that?_ Edward wondered. It made him want to turn around, go back home, and crawl back into bed to hide from the world. He could never in a million years be like that with a beautiful woman.

"Edward!" a terse voice snapped at him from behind.

Damn, he knew that voice. Paninya. He turned around to see the dark-skinned woman, her hair pulled taunt across her scalp, and with her overly trendy clothing and insanely high heels, glaring at him. She began to rattle off something in her rapid fire French that Edward, with his limited skills in the language, couldn't follow; punctuating parts of her tirade with impatient gestures and angry glares. Once she was finished with whatever she had to say, she handed him a sheet of paper and strode away.

Edward rolled his eyes and his whole body sagged. Looks like it was going to be a real _fabulous_ Monday.

* * *

Laying his head on his desk, Edward allowed his eyes to close. Maybe he should have stayed home today, his head was throbbing, his nose was dripping, he was tired and achy, and it was barely nine-thirty. Dr. Marcoh had found him in the halls just as he was heading up to his workstation, stopping him with a hand on Edward's chest, and warning him not to breathe on any thing important; he didn't want future generations to be contaminated with his cold.

Beyond peeved now that Paninya had already had a go at him, Edward had pushed the hand aside and narrowed his eyes at his boss. He had told Dr. Marcoh that if he wasn't carefully, it wasn't future generations that had to worry about his cold, it was the doctor himself. Actually, thinking back on it, he was surprised at how he asserted himself. The biting, sarcastic words seemed to have come from another person.

Dr. Marcoh's jaw had almost hit the floor with that, and Ed had to choke back an insane urge to laugh hysterically at the other man. He wondered if this meant that he wouldn't be pushed around too much anymore. He'd just have to wait and see.

He must have said something else to the director, because the next thing he knew the doctor was walking away, telling him to 'don't push yourself' and sounding quite concerned in the process. He wished he could remember what it was. Hearing footsteps approach his workroom, Edward lifted his head and resumed his assignment.

He resisted the urge to turn on his stool and see whoever it was that was walking past because he wanted to appear to be hard at work, but his ears strained to identify the tread of whoever was approaching. The steps slowed and stopped. They sounded like they stopped just outside his room. The desire to turn was back even greater then before.

"Oh, just do it Edward," Russell laughed, in his rich baritone voice.

Slumping over his desk, Edward sighed. "Russell..." he spoke to the table top. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the older man leaning against the door frame with an amused grin on his face.

"Thinking I might be Paninya?" Russell chuckled, and entered the room.

"Yeah," Edward grinned lazily as Russell crossed the office to look down at what he was working on. "Hey, she gave me this, but I can't make out enough French to know what's it all about." He picked up the paper he'd received this morning from the corner of his desk and handed it to Russell.

Raising an eyebrow, Russell took the sheet and scanned it all the way to the bottom. "Dummy!" he chuckled at Edward, and couldn't resist reaching out to ruffle his long bangs.

"Hey! What gives?" Edward swatted the hand away and smoothed out his flipped over hair.

"Didn't you call in to tell them you were sick?" asked Russell.

""I..." Edward paused. He'd called...right? He frowned and looked down at his work. Right?

"This says, well, more or less, that next time you're sick, notify the office," Russell grinned at Edward's puzzled expression. He was still cute, even if he couldn't put the moves on him.

"Am I in trouble?" Edward asked as he worried the nail on his thumb between his teeth.

"Not much; it's just a warning. Get three of these and they let you go." Russell placed the paper back on top of a pile of paper and smiled down at Edward's bemused face.

"Wait! I did call, else how would you guys know?" Edward looked up into Russell's face, remembering Fletcher's visit.

The look of mirth faded from the older man's face, and he looked back down at the paper again. Picking it back up, he re-read the memo. "Edward, what are you even doing here? I don't want all my hard work at making you well again to go to waste. You should go home, but report to the office first, okay?" Russell let his hand holding the paper fall to his side, and brought his other hand up to clasp Edward's shoulder.

"But I don't want to miss anymore days, I've already missed so many." Russell gave him a knowing look, and slightly raised an eyebrow at him. "Okay...fine," he huffed before sliding off the far side of the stool.

"Don't fool around, go straight to bed."

"Yes...MOM," Edward rolled his eyes, and snorted at Russell. The slight tickle in the back of his throat wouldn't go away, and next thing he knew he was hacking hard into his hand.

Russell hurried to Edward's side and rubbed large circles into the small teenager's back. "Jesus, Edward. Are you okay?" he asked as the attack subsided.

Clearing his throat a few more times, Edward swallowed before speaking. "Um...yeah...I'm pooped though," he mumbled as his shoulders sagged and he leaned forward towards Russell. He stopped himself at the last instant and rolled back onto his heels, away from the older man's chest. What sort of message would he be sending if he all of a sudden started to cuddle with Russell?

"Will you be okay to get home on your own?" Russell asked the top of Edward's head. The poor guy looked like he was going to fall asleep right here, on his feet. "You know, my uncle had pneumonia a while back... Edward, go wait for me in the lunch room. I'm going to take you to the hospital just in case you've caught pneumonia."

"I don't have that, it's just a cold." Edward swayed again towards Russell's chest, and once again caught himself at the last second, rolling back on his heels. He was so sleepy.

Russell grunted and threw an arm around Edward's swaying body; leading the small un-protesting blond out into the hall and to the lunch room. A few staff members threw curious glances his way, but he didn't stop to chat so they moved on. Grateful that the kitchen wasn't too far away, Russell deposited Edward in a chair and pulled his light summer jacket out of his locker and draped it over the boy's shoulders.

"Wait here. Lay your head on the table if you need to rest, but don't take it off. Got it?" As soon as Edward nodded his consent, Russell was off.

Staring blankly at the far wall and the various posters promoting work place safety, Edward let his eyes close. Maybe he was pushing it just a little to be here today, but his father had always said 'that to miss work due to illness was a crock. If you weren't on your death bed, you could go to work.'

Right now, Edward was feeling like he was on his death bed. Sighing, he leaned forward and folded his arms on the table top, and burrowed his face into the crook of his arm. Just thinking about his nice white sheets, and fluffy comforter on his bed, the wonderful feather bed, and feather down pillows at home made him limp with exhaustion.

* * *

Pulling out his cell phone from his back pocket as he walked swiftly down the hall, Russell quickly punched in Fletcher's number, waiting impatiently for his friend to pick up.

He didn't even wait for him to say hello before he was telling him what he needed. "Fletch, I need your car," Russell demanded.

"_Russell? My car? Why?"_

"I wanna take Edward to the Hospital," he explained. His long strides carried him down the hallway to the administration offices.

"_What! What's wrong with him?"_

"I want him checked for pneumonia, just in case, and then I'll take him home." Russell turned down the next hallway. "Meet me in the kitchen?"

"_Fine. I'll be right there. Where are you?"_

"I'm just heading to the office to let them know. Do you know that Edward got a warning for not calling the office to tell them he was sick?" asked Russell. He brought the sheet of paper Paninya had given Edward up to his face to look at the signature at the bottom, and pressed his lips.

"_He did? But that--"_

"I know...anyway I'm here, so I'll be back in a bit. Later." Russell paused just outside of the office. With his phone propped against his ear with his shoulder, he folded the paper up and put it in his pocket for later.

"_'Kay. Later."_

Russell flipped his phone closed, and strode up to the front desk.

* * *

"I can walk on my own, _Russell_," Edward said in cranky annoyance, pushing off Russell's attempt to support him as they crossed the parking lot on their way to the hospital.

"Fine. Cranky much?" Russell snapped back half heartily. Letting his arm drop, Russell thrust his hands into his pants pockets, and ducked under a low tree branch. He turned his head away to hide his smile when he noticed that Edward didn't have to duck at all.

"I just think that this is a waste of time. You could have dropped me off at home, and saved yourself the trouble," explained Edward wearily. He didn't want Russell to think he was mad at him. He just didn't like hospitals much. He was always in the emergency when he was younger to get stitches or tetanus shots. He hated getting shots. He hoped they weren't going to give him a shot today.

"It's no bother, plus you got no one _here_ to take care of you. Let me be that person," Russell said as he winked at Edward and his startled expression.

"...Um..." What on Earth could he say to _that_? Edward hoped that the warmth on his cheeks was due to his cold and not because he was blushing.

"Don't give yourself an aneurysm, I'm just saying." Squeezing between two closely parked cars, Russell led the way to the front doors of the hospital.

Huffing at his own inexperience with dealing with other people, Edward followed a few steps behind. He didn't want to be like this anymore; if anything, being here in Paris and meeting Russell had shown him how far he needed to grow. He hated to admit it, but it seemed his father was right about sending him here.

They approached the sliding glass doors and entered the cool, air conditioned interior of the hospital. Pausing, they both looked around for where they should head next. Edward couldn't read any of the French signs indicating the different wards, so he left it up to Russell to decide where they ought to go now.

"This way," said Russell, heading towards the broad information desk. Stopping in front of one of the nurses seated behind the desk, Russell started speaking in French.

Edward came up to the desk along side Russell and tried to listen and pick out any French words he recognized as they talked. Russell pointed down a hallway and asked a question. The nurse pointed as well, and Russell nodded. Edward understood when he said merci. About the only thing he did understand in that whole conversation. Russell jerked his head at Edward, towards the hall and set off.

"So, what'd she say?" Edward asked as he walked along side of his friend, down the wide linoleum floor.

"That you're sick," Russell grinned at Edward as he snorted in response to Russell's teasing. Russell pulled his hand out of his pocket and combed his fingers through his hair. "And that we got to wait in the general admissions area."

Edward tried to hold in the cough that wanted to work its way free. Clearing his throat, Edward swallowed, and the tickle wouldn't be denied any longer. He hacked into his hand, making his abs hurt from the force of the exertion. He dimly noted Russell's hand resting on the small of his back, as he was lead down the hall.

* * *

"Are you hungry? I'll get something for you from the vending machines if you want," Russell suggested, looking up from his three-year-old magazine at Edward who was slumped over in his chair.

Opening his eyes, Edward looked up at his friend, and lifted his head from the back of the chair. "Naw, my stomach hurts from coughing, I don't feel like it."

"Okay, I'll just go get something then. Be right back."

"Yeah..." Edward let his head fall back to the chair and watched sleepily as Russell walked across the waiting room to the vending machines. He hoped the doctor would see them soon, because he was feeling like maybe he did have pneumonia, he felt that shitty. Four hours of waiting, and sitting on chair with only a hint of padding did not help the body relax, either.

He watched as Russell deposited his coins into the machine, made a choice, and walked back to their seats.

"Sure you don't want any?" Russell shook the bag of salted peanuts for Edward to see.

He just blinked at the man standing over him.

"Hey," Russell sat down beside Edward, angling himself to better see the tired face. "You're going to give yourself a sore neck, lying like that."

"Hn."

"Edward Elric," a voice called out across the waiting room.

"Oh!" Russell turned in his seat and saw the nurse standing in the door way leading to the doctor's examining room. "Let's go." Reaching down he pulled the sick teenager to his feet.

Slightly more alert now, Edward walked behind Russell. Finally they could get this over with and he would soon be crawling into bed. The nurse led them down the corridor and pulled aside a curtain divider. Speaking in French, she motioned to the bed and left.

"Take off your shirt and lay down," Russell translated after she left. He pulled the curtain half way, so that Edward could have a bit of privacy.

"'Kay." He slipped the button-down shirt off his arms, laid it on the bed, and fisted the hems of his t-shirts pulling them all off in one go. He let them fall in a pile on top of his other shirt and hopped up onto the bed.

"Holy fuck, Edward!" exclaimed Russell.

"What?" asked Edward, puzzled by Russell's outburst. He pivoted around and sat his bum on the bed, with his feet dangling over the side.

"Where did you get all those _scars_?" Reaching out his hand, Russell dragged his finger tips along Edward's right ribs. There were numerous signs of stitches and old wounds that had become more visible due to the blond's flushed and red skin.

Edward looked down at his chest. His many adventures into the woods or climbing trees and their disastrous end result was on proud display. "Oh...I'm clumsy," he said as he lay back on the thin mattress and folded his hands over his stomach.

Russell snorted in disbelief. "That looks more like--"

"Bonjour, bonjour, how are we today?" A man in a blue shirt and tie with a stethoscope around his neck pulled the curtain back and stood at the end of the bed. He looked at Russell and then down at his clipboard. "Brother?"

"No, I'm his friend."

Nodding he flipped a page and studied his paperwork. "So, you've got a bad cold and suspect pneumonia...well let's have a listen to your lungs, young man." Placing the clipboard at the end of the bed, he inserted the tips into his ears and rubbed the metal over his palm, warming it.

Edward's eyes never left the doctor and what he was doing. He started as the cold metal touched his upper chest, and he breathed long and deep without being told to.

"Again." Edward inhaled, and then choked.

The doctor stepped back, and Edward sat up coughing hard into his hands. Russell moved beside him and rubbed soothing circles into his bare back. After a few moments, the urgency dissipated, but the urge to cough didn't.

"Hm...I'll give you a few minutes to calm down, and I'll be back," the doctor said and walked off to make some notes.

"Ugh...my stomach hurts," whined Edward. He flopped back onto the bed, and kneaded his abused abs in sympathy.

"All better?" The doctor came back before Russell had a chance to respond to Edward, placing his stethoscope on the naked chest in front of him. "Breathe shallowly." The doctor listened and then moved the device around his patient's chest. "And how long have you had this cold?"

"About a week."

"Hm...I'm going to order some X-rays. Your lungs sound too wet to me, but it might just be an infection, and not pneumonia." Pulling out the ear pieces, the doctor laid the stethoscope around his neck. "You can get dressed now."

"How long will the X-rays take?" Russell asked. He tried not to watch as Edward pulled his shirts back on.

"Not long, I'll send you up right away."

"Thanks sir," Edward croaked, he pulled on his button down and hopped off the bed.

"Please take this to the eighth floor." The doctor handed Edward a sheet of paper and waved good-bye.

Sighing, Edward looked up at Russell. "Let's go," he said without enthusiasm.

* * *

"I'm soooo fucking tried," whined Edward. They were heading back to the waiting room on the first floor; the X-rays were taken to be developed. Now they had to wait _again_. He plopped down in the closest chair, letting his body sink. It was so good to not have to support himself anymore.

"I know, but it's better to be sure," Russell said in sympathy, as he took the seat beside the blond.

Edward hummed his acknowledgment and let his chin fall to his chest. He closed his eyes and could only think about his lovely bed at home.

"Hey, isn't that your instructor from that place?" Russell asked sometime later.

Rousing himself from his cramped position on the chair, Edward sat up and looked in the direction Russell was pointing in. Striding across the waiting area, in his Chinese coat and baggy pants, was Ling, looking very pissed off.

"Wonder what he's up too?" Edward mused.

"Should we say hi?" wondered Russell. His eyes followed the brisk man.

"Don't know. He looks pissed. Let's wait."

"Okay."

Ling walked up to the reception desk and gestured violently. The nurse shook her head and pointed in the other direction. Ling seemed to pause at this, his body language showing that he was thinking about something, then he stabbed the counter top with his index finger. Once he finished his rant, the nurse got up and walked away. They could see Ling's mouth drop open in shock and then he closed his mouth and turned around to lean on the counter. He seemed to not see the seats and the people in them, but suddenly he focused on Russell and Edward and smiled. Pushing off the counter he strode over towards their seats.

Edward shifted. For some reason he was over come with embarrassment. They had witnessed something that was quite possibly private. What if Ling accused them of being nosy? He felt the heat rise in his face. _Not like he'd never been nosy before_, he thought, but somehow this was different.

"Oh, hey, he's heading this way," said Russell, finally looking over at the man walking towards them. "Did you see what happened?"

"No!" Edward said a little too harshly, he shifted again.

"O...kay," Russell quirked an eyebrow at him and then turn back to great Ling as he came within earshot. "Bonjour, funny meeting you here." He held out his hand and the martial artist shook it in greeting.

"Bonjour, I haven't seen you two in a while. I was just thinking about calling my star pupil to see what's up," Ling smiled at Edward who wouldn't meet his eyes. He took the seat on Edward's other side.

"Really?" Russell looked around Edward in order to see Ling's face and confirm what he had said. "Hear that?" he nudged the teenager in the arm.

"Oh...um thanks," Edward mumbled. After a moment, he lifted his head enough to look at Ling and see for himself that he was serious.

"I was thinking, if you're really keen, I'd like to do some intensive training with you. I think that you'd be perfect to go to L.A. for the World Open Mixed Martial Arts Tournament (1). It's being held in two years time, and with your natural abilities I think that's more then enough for you to achieve a sufficient rank."

"Me! Compete? You got to be joking me!" protested Edward. He coughed into his hand, his excitement affecting his illness. "Plus capoeira isn't made for sparring," his voice warbled and dropped an octave.

"I don't teach _just_ capoeira. I know Savaté, Tae Kwon-do, and Kung fu, with a little bit of Jiu Jujitsu on the side. I think I got a nice blend and you...you take to it so well. I was totally blown away by the end off class, and then you disappeared on me," Ling said throwing up his hands at the tragedy of it all. "And don't be worried about your size, I know we can bulk you up in no time."

"Who are you calling small?" Ed groused. "I'm still growing you know," he pouted, crossing his arms in annoyance.

Chuckling, with his eyes sparkling with mirth, Ling just smiled at Ed.

"Wow, Edward, you should do it." Russell eyes were shining in excitement. "I could help too and teach you some boxing skills to get you in shape."

"Sounds good. Boxing is excellent for building up the body," Ling agreed, nodding at Russell.

"Wah, you guys are teaming up on me. I'm sick, and this is huge. I don't know..." Edward shifted in his chair again. He swallowed his desire to cough; his stomach had had enough.

"Think about it. Will you come back to class either way?" badgered Ling. He didn't want to lose this one no matter what.

"Well yeah, since I already paid," huffed Edward.

"Good! Well I better go; I've got people to yell at." The Asian man stood and waved, moving back to the reception desk to speak with the nurse again.

"Oh, Edward...wow that's so cool! Are you going to do it?"

"I don't know..." Edward worried his thumb nail between his teeth.

"Edward Elric." Both him and Russell looked over at the nurse standing in the middle of the room.

"Great, now I can go home and sleep," Edward stood and walked towards the nurse.

-- To be continued --

Please review, happy authors up date faster XD


	7. Chapter 06

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

(1) an inverted move for capoeira.

**Warning**: This is one of my first 'detailed' lime smut, and I'm really nervous about it...XS Please let me know how I did. Should I never do a smut scene again or do I have something to work with?

**Chapter 6**

July 15, 2006

Dear Da,

I know it's been a while since I was able to fire off a letter to you—sorry about that. Things got really busy here. I got really sick with a bad virus. I missed three weeks of work because of it, and before you say anything, I WAS on my death bed. The doctor even ordered me to stay home and recuperate. You can't argue with a doctor.

Russell—I told you about him in the last letter—took care of me. I really like him and I'm sure you will too if you ever meet. He took a week off from work in order to make sure I worked hard at getting better. It's really shocking to me that he shows me so much concern. I just never thought that someone who's not a blood relation would act like that. I'm doing my best to not over analyze it, but it's hard.

Fletcher is my newest friend. I think there's some connection or relation between Russell and Fletcher, but they're not spilling the beans to me. He seems like a good guy as well, and ever since that night at the club, he's been hanging out and talking with me as much as Russell. The way this guy chases after women...I'm amazed at his easy and laid back nature. The women flock to him! How the hell (sorry about the swear, but really...) does he do that! I'm keeping my eyes on him to watch for any tips. Hehe.

Oh yeah, that girl Paninya, she's been giving me a hard time too. No matter how good I'm getting at speaking French, hers is a mystery to me. She talks so fast that her words blend together into a mass of sound. I tried to ask Russell to find out what she has against me, but she wouldn't confide in him. I don't think I'll ever know what her issues are...

Okay, well I got something huge to tell you about...but I'm not sure what you'll make of it...sigh...Okay, so I told you about me joining the Capoeira Club, and how much I really liked it...well while at the hospital (Russell insisted that I go and make sure I didn't have pneumonia) we ran into my instructor, Ling. There he proceeded to drop a HUGE bombshell on me. Apparently, I am a natural in doing martial arts, and he wanted to do extra training in various other types martial arts as well, in order for me to compete at the World Championships in L.A. in two years. Russell thinks this is great, of course, and even volunteered to train me up some in boxing, his sport of choice.

What do you think? Should I do this? It's a huge commitment on my part to become wrapped up in this, plus I'll be back state side before the tournament takes place. I'll have to save up my money so that'll have a way to fly there. I don't know what to say to Ling, or Russell, who continue to badger me daily to make a decision now that I'm well.

Well, with that out of the way...how's everyone back home? Is Patricia still going to send some of her cookies? I hope so, my tummy is eagerly waiting hint, hint HAHA!! I hope Mei Chang and Fu aren't driving you crazy with their inane stories... I know you won't answer this...but how's Winry?

Lots of love,

Edward.

* * *

July 23, 2006

Dear Edward,

I'm glad to hear that you have someone to lean on while away from home, Russell sounds like a very trustworthy young man. I like him already. I am shocked to hear that you were so sick. I hope you're on the mend now, and I expect a full accounting in the next letter. I'm glad Russell had the presence of mind to get you checked out.

It is possible for people outside of blood relations to become as close as family. I know that you have yet to truly experience this yet due to your shy and introverted nature. Sometimes these 'chosen' family members become closer then blood. Try your best to 'go with the flow' as Mei Chang likes to say these days—really I wonder if we should allow her to watch American TV...

This Fletcher sounds like a proper rouge, but if you get any good tips...pass them along my way! Oh, sorry about that, my attempt at humor might make you cringe, but I am a man too you know.

So you're really going ahead with learning to fight? I'm a little leery of this, but I will support your decision whatever it may be. I'm thrilled to hear that you're so good at it already. Do you remember when you were little how you used to whine about not being good at anything? I think you meant your failure to court Winry, but then you didn't want to be involved in any extracurricular actives. Sports, school actives, even friends. So, please peruse this whole heartily, and save your money for your trip across America. I'll help out as I can.

I showed your letter to Patricia, and she's whipping up a batch of your favorite cookies as we speak. She sends her love, says to work hard at becoming a champion.

Love,

Da.

* * *

Groaning at the darkness and the incessant 'beep, beep' of his alarm, Edward rolled over on to his stomach, and smacked at his teal green alarm clock, giving him a respite for a moment. So far getting up two hours earlier then was necessary wasn't agreeing with him too well. He was sure, at least according to Russell, that it would get easier...but he really loved his feather bed and feather pillows.

Sighing, he sat back on his heals, making the blankets pool around his behind, and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Reaching over, Edward banged on off his alarm, silencing it and slid out of bed. He wouldn't bother with a shower until after his run. Flicking on the bathroom light, and blinking at the harsh over head light, Edward pulled his hair into a pony tail at the base of his neck. He started, and did a double take when he noticed that it was getting quite long. It was now past his shoulders, and could, if loose, touch his collar bone. He kind of liked it.

Squeezing the toothpaste onto his tooth brush, Edward scrubbed his teeth to help wake up, and rinsed his mouth. That done, he swiped a hand across his chin; no need to shave today. Pulling off his sleep tank top and shorts, he threw them into the hamper in the bathroom, and padded back into the bedroom. He pulled on his soccer shorts and old t-shirt that were lying on top of his work out bag, and then scooped up the bag and brought it out into the living room, placing it by the front door.

Double checking the clock on the microwave, Edward saw that he had 5 more minutes before Russell would be here. He padded back to the bedroom and got a pair of socks and brought them back to the front door. Donning his footwear, Edward hoisted the bag onto his shoulder and pulled his keys off the hook by the door. Locking up behind him, he took the stairs, making sure to walk quietly for his neighbors' sake's. By the time he had come to the first floor, Edward could see the familiar blue car, belonging to Fletcher, waiting outside.

Hurrying down the hall, he pushed open the security doors, and waved at Russell behind the wheel. Dumping his bag in the back, Edward climbed in the passenger seat and grinned at his friend.

"Hey," Grunted Russell, still not very awake yet.

"Morning."

"Let's get this over with," Russell grunted, putting the car in gear and pulled away from the curb.

Edward nodded, not up to much conversation either. For the past week and a half this had been their routine. Wake up at 4:30, drive to the outdoor track, run and do wind sprints, then head back to Russell's to shower, pick up Fletcher, and head to work. Not until after their respective showers did they feel alive enough to start talking with each other, and Fletcher always had a lively story about some girl he was with last night.

After work, Edward would catch the metro and head to the club to train before class started. Kicking and punching drills, stretching, push-ups, crunches; all of it was within Ling's scope of conditioning to get Edward on a level plane with the other two fighters on the team, Leo and Rick. Once class had ended, Edward would stay on and train into the night to leave at 10:30 pm, to head back home.

The grueling pace and strain on his body, when he wasn't used to so much activity, meant that a few times he had been caught at work dozing off. Between Russell and Fletcher, they tried to look out for him as best they could and kept a careful eye on Paninya.

As the summer drew to a close, Edward saw a dramatic change in his once skinny body. His overall muscle tone had greatly improved; he began to have six pack abs, cut arms and corded thighs. Russell would say subtle things to show how much he was enjoying the change, and Edward didn't mind hearing it. These comments helped to make Edward feel confident within his skin and body.

The fact that Russell was the one delivering the complements, and that he was a boy didn't even enter into his mind. He had almost forgotten the shocking confession he'd received weeks ago. He just felt that as they became closer friends it was natural that they would touch one another on the shoulder or arm, so when Russell began to let his hand linger a little longer then necessary on his shoulder at times, Edward didn't think anything of it.

On the last day of August, Russell and Fletcher both declared that they were going with Edward to see his progress that night. Elated and a little nervous to show off his new skills, Edward caught the metro after work, and couldn't stop smiling at his friends seated across from him on the molded plastic chairs on the train.

"Edward, you're grinning like you just got a really good lay," Fletcher teased. "Anything we should know about?" his grin stretched wide across his face.

"Eep! No, I don't have time for girls now," protested Edward, blushing hard he looked at his hands.

"Not even dreams of a certain blond woman?" asked Russell, watching him intently for his answer.

"Oh...well I always have time for dreams," mumbled Edward as he looked out the window, feeling decidedly uncomfortable talking about Winry near Russell.

"Hmm..." hummed Fletcher, watching the slight hint of hurt pass over Russell's face. "This is our stop guys," standing, he pushed past Russell out into the aisle.

Grabbing his bag off the floor, Edward followed behind Russell and Fletcher up to street level. He got caught up in the milling crowd and lost sight of his friends on the street. Turning around, he tried to spot their clothes, or anything that seemed familiar.

"Edward!" Russell waved over the heads of the crowd at him. Edward trotted over to them, his bag bouncing against his thigh. "Stay close, you might be a good fighter, but you're still small," Russell laughed at the small blond's sour expression.

"I don't know Russell...it seems to me that he has grown somewhat. I mean he only used to come up to here before," Fletcher indicated the spot on his chest just below his pectoral muscle. Moving along side of Edward, Fletcher measured his new height which was fast approaching his collar bone, although Fletcher, at 5'10", was smaller then Russell's six feet.

"AH-HA!" Edward pointed at Russell, grinning triumphantly. "And you tried to make me believe I wasn't going to grow anymore. You almost gave me a complex."

Whistling his awe of Edward's growth spurt, Russell headed out down the street in the direction of the club. "It's not my fault you believe everything you hear," he chuckled, though his amusement didn't touch his voice or face.

Edward jogged to catch up with Russell in order to glare at him. "What's wrong with you? You're acting all weird," Edward studied his friend as they walked.

"How so?" asked Russell, looking down at him to stare into those lovely whiskey-colored eyes.

"You never call me small, in fact you always tell whoever said it to bug off, basically," Edward waved his free hand indicating the 'everyone else' in a vague way.

"Ah...there's nothing wrong," said Russell, nodding his understanding at Edward's explanation. He looked down at his feet as they turned the corner.

"Humph...you're lying," accused Edward, glaring again. He turned slightly, looking over his shoulder at the beeping coming from Fletcher's pocket.

"Am not," denied Russell, a smirk sliding across his face.

"Are too!" accused Edward, looking up at him.

"Am not!"

"Guys! We got a problem, or...I do. I need your help," whined Fletcher from behind them. Both boys stopped their almost argument and turned to see what was up. "I just got a text message from _her_. What should I do?"

"Huh, 'her' who?" wondered Edward, trying to peek at the phone in Fletcher's hand.

"Let's keep walking or else Edward will be late." Russell turned back around and continued down the street. "What's it say?" asked Russell over his shoulder, trying to sound interested.

"She wants to meet me...tonight." Fletcher's eyes bugged out of his head. He was staring intently at his phone re-reading the message again and again.

"A booty call?" wondered Russell, watching the street in front of him.

"God, I hope so!" breathed Fletcher, he clutched the phone to his chest, and smiled at the sky.

"What's this? Another girl?" Edward looked back to see Fletcher's dreamy look.

"Not just any girl," Fletcher sighed, and didn't elaborate further.

Edward turned his gaze to Russell, silently asking for him to fill him in on Fletcher's strange behavior. Heaving his own sigh, Russell looked back once more. "Fletcher...met this older woman a while back...and has been gaa-gaa over her ever since."

"But all those girls he goes out with..." asked Edward.

"Are his way of trying to forget her," Russell finished.

"You got to help me, what should I do?" Fletcher grabbed on to the fabric of Russell's shirt, halting them as he danced in place.

"Man! I don't know why you're even considering this; she FUCKED WITH YOUR MIND!" Russell pointed at Fletcher's head, his voice rising towards the end. He'd also like to know why he was so aggravated right now.

"It was a misunderstanding," Fletcher murmured, taking a step back. He watched Russell warily.

"Um, guys..." Edward tried to stop the increasingly heated words coming from both his friend's mouths. He reached out a hand, one to each man, trying to distract them.

"How do you misunderstand walking in, and seeing her with another man?" demanded Russell. He gestured widely, his hands sweeping across his body. The action of his limb crashed into Edward's outreaching hand, sending it aside. "How do you misunderstand her stringing you along? How do you misunderstand how she PLAYED you?"

"The fuck is wrong with you today?" Fletcher spat back, frowning at Russell, he crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn't about to drag this out on the street, and in front of Edward. Fletcher looked across at the small blond, who was looking quite fearful of Russell's venom.

"Nothing, let's not talk about this right now," Russell said dismissing his outburst. He spun around and continued to walk down the street.

The rest of the walk was quiet and sullen. Edward searched his mind trying to come up with someway to lighten the mood. Each time he tried to speak the words died on his lips. When they finally got to the club, he excused himself quickly and headed towards the changing room. Looking back over his shoulder just before he entered the room, he could see Fletcher turn towards Russell. Turning away from them, he studied his feet for a moment before pushing open the door to the men's changing room.

* * *

Running the towel across his sweaty face, Edward looked around the front of the gym. With all the people leaving from class, he couldn't make out if Russell and Fletcher were still here. He was very curious to know what they had said to one another after he left to change.

"Good workout tonight. Your au batido (1) is looking much better," said Ling standing beside him. "Leo and Rick will be back soon. They just got back from the tournament in Egypt. Both of them got gold."

"Wow." Edward's eyes widened.

"Yeah, I need to get you into some tournaments for experience before we go to L.A.," said Ling, nodding at one of his students who was standing discreetly off to the side, waiting for his chance to talk with his instructor. Smiling at Edward, Ling moved away.

Left to himself until the crowd left for the night, Edward scanned the crowd looking for his friends. He finally caught sight of Fletcher standing out of the way of a group of girls as they donned their foot wear, and smiling at him. Frowning, Edward crossed the gym and leaned up against the wall next to Fletcher.

"You were really good. You make it look so friggin' effortless. I'm so jealous," Fletcher said as he looked down at Edward's shy acceptance of the complement.

"Thanks...Ling says I need to start going to tournaments soon. It's a little nerve racking though. Um...so, Russell took off, didn't he?" asked Edward, when he couldn't see the other man anywhere.

"Tch...yeah," Fletcher looked disgusted and peeved.

"Why? What's eating him? When did he leave?"

"Right after class started," he said. Pushing away from the wall, Fletcher turned so that he could face Edward and talk without being overheard. "Listen Edward, there's a lot of history between Russell and me. Sometimes...he just gets...perturbed, and he thinks that he can take it out on me."

"I don't understand," confessed Edward, combing his fingers through his sweaty hair.

"Listen, I'm not going to go into something that's not mine to tell. If Russell wants to explain himself he will. I better take off now, you got a few more hours of training to do."

"Yeah, listen, thanks for watching." Edward didn't say it, but they both knew that he meant that Fletcher had stayed.

"Yeah, sure. I'll see you tomorrow." Fletcher waved good-bye and headed out the door.

* * *

"You have to go _where_?" Fletcher asked, shocked.

"Greece." Edward was grinning. He was hoping he'd get a reaction like that, and the chance to travel while in Europe was very appealing. Who knows if, or when, he'd ever get back here once he was state side again.

"When?" inquired Fletcher before taking a sip of his hot mocha and licking his lips.

"End of the month."

"Wow, are you going to have enough cash for that?" asked Fletcher. He was well aware of how little room Edward had when it came to his finances.

"Yeah—I don't know. Ling's got some cash from fund raising he can share between me, Rick, and Leo, but it won't go that far. I'll have to ask and see if my da can help out any."

Fletcher sat back in the café chair and stared at his coffee mug, in thought. "You know...Russell's family has a cabin in Greece...you should find out where you're headed, and see if Russell will let you use it," Fletcher suggested.

"Yeah, I suppose."

"Hey guys, sorry I'm late," Russell said as he pulled out the third chair at the small table and sat down.

"Russell...Edward's got some news. Tell him buddy," Fletcher tilted his hand at the small blond and sat back in his wire chair.

"I gotta go to Greece at the end of September for a tournament," Edward said, looking down into his cup of tea. Russell hadn't told him what was bothering him on the night he was suppose to watch his class, but ever since, Edward had felt the need to try and be around Russell as much as possible, somehow looking for ways to ease his strange state of mind. He had begun to invite Russell over to his apartment on his one day off from training so that he could keep an eye on him, but sometimes Edward just felt...strange around him.

"No way! Wow...my family's got a cabin on the outskirts of Athens."

"You _don't_ say..." Fletcher dead panned, a slow smirk inching across his face. "I sense a party coming on."

"What do you mean?" Russell asked, raising an eyebrow at Fletcher.

"Let's all go, you, me, Edward and the team, and bunk up in your cabin. After the tournament we can get drunk and silly. We should invite girls too."

"But we don't know where it is?" protested Edward, slightly frantic about the prospect of all his friends mixing freely.

"I don't care, I want a road trip!" Fletcher planted his hands on the table top, and glared at the other two men.

Edward couldn't help himself, and he started laughing at the strange face that Fletcher was making. "Haha, alright, I'll get some more info about it," chuckled Edward.

* * *

Edward cracked one eye open and looked at his open bedroom door, trying to identify the insistent banging that was echoing down the hallway outside. Deciding that a lover's spat wasn't something he wanted to get involved with, he rolled over and tried to ignore the noise. After two more minutes of the racket, Edward sat up in a huff, looking at his bedside table and the alarm clock to see that it was just after midnight.

Sighing, he pulled the covers back and trudged to the door, looking through the peep hole. He gasped aloud. There was Russell, swaying like he was drunk, banging on the neighbor's door across from his apartment. Throwing the dead bolt, Edward opened the door and hissed at the man. "Russell, what are you doing?"

Russell's hand stopped mid bang. Tilting his head, he leaned in and seemed to be listening through his neighbor's door. "Ed...war?" slurred Russell as he swayed alarmingly.

"Idiot, over here," Edward hissed again, waving his arm to try to attract his attention.

Russell seemed to fold gracefully in two and got down on his knees and put his ear to the crack at the bottom of the door. "Edwar? What ar' you doin' down there?"

Rolling his eyes, Edward crossed the hallway and hooked his arm under Russell's tugging him to his feet. The inebriated man rolled his head to look at him and a weak smile spread across his face.

"Edwar, how di'you get ou'here?" slurred Russell, falling into Edward's small frame.

"Phew." Turning his head away as Russell got too close, Edward could smell the noxious fumes of alcohol. "What have you been drinking?"

"Edwar, Edwar...I've been drinkin' alsohol," Russell tisked and shook his head, giving the prefect imitation of someone trying to be patronizing, but in Russell's case, failing miserably.

"No shit, Sherlock." He nudged the man towards his open apartment door. Russell giggled loudly, making Edward cringe for his neighbor's ears. A door down the hall cracked open, and an elderly woman shot daggers at them for the racket. "Sorry," hissed Edward, shoving his friend towards this apartment.

Russell tripped over the small bump on the floor as he crossed the threshold, and fell heavily into the porch. Rolling his eyes again, Edward dragged the heavy body far enough into the hall for him to close the door. Turning the dead bolt, he leaned back into the door and watched the still form sprawled in his porch.

"Russell?" whispered Edward. Stepping over the gangly limbs, he leaned down by Russell's face. Russell was watching him kneel down. "Can you get up without falling on your ass and making a lot of noise?"

"Suuuureee I caaaaann," said Russell, giggled again and he pushed on the floor, raising himself onto his hands and knees. Shuffling forward, he headed toward the bedroom.

"No, the couch, the couch!" growled Edward, tugging on the arm closest to him, trying to divert him away from his wonderful bed. Russell was much to heavy too do more then make him pull off course slightly. About half way to his room, Edward gave up and let the drunken man have his way.

Russell giggled loudly again, rolling over on to his ass to look up at Edward standing over him with his arms crossed over his chest. "Edwar...guess wha'?" Russell drawled.

"What? Do I even want to know?" he wondered, glaring down his nose at the drunk. He was not really in the mood to drag this out any longer. His training last night had been hard, and he was tired, his back ached, and he could feel about a dozen new bruises threatening to sprout up all over his body. Thank God, that tomorrow was Sunday and he didn't have to be anywhere or train. Entertaining a hung over Russell didn't sound like a fun time for Edward.

Russell hooked his finger at him. "Down hereeee!"

"Tch," Edward bent down stiffly, resting his knees on the wooden floor.

Giggling again, Russell shifted closer, sitting almost on top of the smaller blond. "I'm horny," he broke out in to fits of laughter, rolling back onto his back.

Massaging his temples, and praying for patience, Edward sat back on his bum and folded his legs in front of him. "You're talking shit now. I think it's 'bout time to sleep it off, eh?"

"No, no, wait...Edwar...I got somethin' else to say." Russell rolled to his side and tried to focus on Edward's face. "I can't wait to go to Greece with you."

"Great...now do you want to sleep? I do," Edward mumbled the last bit, his eyes were drooping.

Russell suddenly wilted. His head dropped to the floor with a thunk and he rolled onto his back.

Quirking an eyebrow at him, he wondered if Russell's head would have a lump on it in the morning. He tried to remember if he had any Tylenol left, but couldn't recall right off. Sighing for what felt like the hundredth time, Edward pushed to his feet and reached out a hand to Russell. The prone man blinked at him uncomprehending through his messy blond hair. Gritting his teeth, Edward reached down and clasped his wrist and heaved him on to his bum. Throwing his arms around Russell's torso, he somehow got Russell upright again.

Edward squeaked as Russell's large frame leaned on him, bending him backwards painfully. He had to tighten his hold on Russell chest just to make sure they didn't fall over in a heap. All of a sudden, Edward was being pushed backwards towards his room. Russell's arm tightened around him, stopping any half formed ideas of escape.

"Edwar..." breathed Russell against the boy's neck. "God, you so FUCKIN'..." reaching up with one of his hands, Russell bushed aside the hair on Edward's neck, and dipped down, swiping his tongue up the side of his neck to capture an ear lobe.

Edward gasped at the instant thrill that raced down his spine and went straight to his groin at the warm lips and tongue nibbling on his ear.

Russell's hands began to roam across the muscled back of the small blond, kneading the tight and sore kinks he found there, unknowingly making Edward melt. "...hot," Russell finally finished his sentence, as he released his hold on the ear lobe. Spinning Edward around, Russell backed him up into the edge of the bed. He could just make out the flash of those whiskey-colored eyes in the light from the street, and felt his groin twitch in response.

"Russell...um, you should sleep now, okay?" Edward suggested, trying to distract him from what was happening now, and distract himself from what his groin was telling him it wanted from Russell. If he could do that, then he was sure the other man would quickly forget about this. The backs of his legs met the edge of the bed. Looking up into Russell's face, Edward's eyes widened as he was pushed forcefully backwards, bouncing a bit from the force of it.

Swinging his legs over his head, Edward rolled over his head and sat in the middle of the bed, warily watching for Russell's next move. His body was humming with remembered sensations, and he reached up a hand to wipe his ear hoping to banish the feeling of Russell's surprisingly soft mouth from his ear. In an incredibly fast move for a drunken man, Russell launched himself at Edward's chest, bowling him over and pinning him to the bed.

Bucking his body, Edward tried to throw him off the side of the bed, but Russell's greater size and weight meant that all he could do was press himself more firmly to the drunk man on top of him, eliciting a throaty groan from Russell.

"Jesus, Edward," Russell cursed, sounding more sober. "You're going to make me lose it." He bent his head to the side and resumed his suckling on Edward's ear.

"Ah!" Edward lost himself then, withering under Russell as another jolt traversed his spine and pooled in his enlarging groin. Russell's hands were everywhere, slipping under his shirt and twilling his nipples between his fingers, to trail down his ribs and fondle his hip, skirting his most needy area. Russell's other hand threaded through his hair holding the back of his head and lifting it towards Russell's searching mouth and tongue.

Edward arched again as Russell bit down on the throbbing pulse in his neck and suckling the spot to ease the pain. His hands held onto Russell's broad back, as he sought to anchor himself somehow from the overload of sensation after sensation that coursed through him. His groin shouted for attention, and Edward rubbed his hips into the other man's pelvis, seeking friction.

Moaning around the skin in his mouth, Russell ground back. He thrust his leg between Edward's and spread his legs, making room for him to lying in between them. Lining up their erections, Russell threw his head back at the thrill of meeting the obviously excited man below him with his clothed penis. Dry humping had never felt this good.

Edward thrust back, he had no experience at this and it showed, but both boys didn't care to complain as their heated breaths mingled. He was so close, Edward could feel the tightening of his balls as his climax got closer. Sweat beaded on his brow, and his face flushed. Russell's pace was increasing in response to Edward's frantic pawing at his back.

Russell leaned back in and captured the neglected ear and ran his tongue up the shell before thrusting his tongue into Edward's ear channel in a simulation of penetration. Edward gave a shout and came in his pajamas, the growing warmth making Russell follow quickly, spilling his seed into his underwear and jeans.

Russell collapsed on top of the small blond, partially burying him under his body, in his post orgasmic bliss. Edward didn't complain at the heavy weight on top of him, as he sought to calm his breathing and sort out what had just happened. He couldn't believe how crazy this whole thing was, and on top of that, how great if had felt.

Rousing himself, Russell somehow managed to stand up and pulled his soiled pants down, underwear and all, discarding them to places unknown in the dark. Despite what had just happened, Edward turned his head away, embarrassed. Climbing back onto the bed, Russell yanked Edward's pajama bottoms off and threw them over his shoulder.

"Wait!" yelped Edward, covering himself from view.

Unperturbed, Russell pulled off his shirt and tugged the sheets out from under Edwards body. Flopping down on the pillows, he pulled the blankets over top both their bodies and pulled a still freaked out Edward to his chest. With a mighty sigh, Russell passed out.

Edward blinked at the naked chest in front of his face. His brain seemed to have taken a vacation, because he couldn't see how he had gotten in this situation. The utter craziness of the whole thing...it's true that they had become closer, but this close? Edward shifted, testing Russell's hold on him. The arm around his shoulders slid off easily and he scooted to the end of the bed and slid off to sit on the floor. Peering over the edge of the bed at the softly snoring Russell, Edward wondered what would happen now that they had 'crossed the line' from friendship to...whatever this was, and would Russell even remember?

Padding over to his dresser, Edward pulled out a fresh pair of boxers and slipped them over his hips. He then went into the bathroom and pulled out an extra blanket from the linen closet, and took it with him to the couch. After fluffing the couch pillow and shaking out the blanket, Edward finally settled down and stared at the ceiling.

His mind replayed the event over and over. Was there anything he could have done to stop it? Had he wanted to stop it? He should have been able to fight him off...shouldn't he? The way Russell's lips had felt on his neck and ear had been amazing, and his body started to react to the mental images he was supplying. Shifting under his blanket, Edward frowned at the ceiling. How could he be horny after that? Resolutely ignoring his body's demands for pleasure, Edward rolled over onto his side, and willed himself to sleep.

-- To be continued --

Hope you enjoyed this!

Please review—happy author's update faster! It's true! Five out of ten rabbits agree, 'it really works!'


	8. Chapter 07

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

Big thanks goes out to ZaKai for taking time out of her busy schedule to beta this for me XD

Just a general note on the fighting style for this fic. Edward fights in a mixed martial arts style that includes grappling and take downs as part of the point structure. While I do Tae Kwon-do, I have no knowledge about any rules or tournaments held outside this martial art, so any rules and regulatory items I bring up will be based on TKD, or maybe a bit of boxing, and not any real world knowledge or UFC (ultimate fighter championship). I own these fictional tournaments! XD

(1) my sensei actually did this at a school demo...like for real o.O

**Chapter 7**

Russell shifted under the single sheet covering his lower body, and burrowed into the too soft pillow. The damn sunlight was hitting him full on in the face. It was much too bright for his state of mind, and he mentally commanded the light to go somewhere else. NOW. YESTERDAY even.

When the sunlight didn't make any move to obey his wishes, he rolled over and lifted the other pillow over his head, and drifted back into oblivion.

* * *

Jerking awake, Edward's groggy mind tried to piece together why he was sleeping on the couch and not his bed. Plus, he had just had the strangest dream about a cat teaching him how to fight. Okay, so the cat was a really good teacher, but still, the dream was strange.

Bracing his hands under him, Edward pushed up, lifting his chest off the couch to peer bleary eyed out the window at the bright sunny day. Swinging his legs over the side of the couch, Edward took a moment to rub his face, removing the sleep from his eyes.

Bunching the blanket at the foot of the couch, Edward padded across the wooden floor in his bare feet, towards the kitchenette. Puling open the cupboards, he got a bowl down, filling it with cereal, and milk. He brought it back with him to the couch and turned on the TV to watch some silly French children's show. Somehow, it was how he picked up French best, watching these cartoons. He had to turn up the television in order to hear it over his crunchy cereal. He lifted the spoon up to his mouth and chewed absently while grunting his amusement at the antics of the characters on the screen.

"Gods, Edward are you trying to kill me?" Russell shouted over the noise of the television, he held on to his throbbing head.

"JESUS! FUCK!" Edward threw his bowl full of cereal across the room in fright, where it landed in a clatter of porcelain against wood. Whirling around, he was confused at Russell's presence in his bedroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist looking very much like a truck had run over him.

"Ed, please...the TV." Russell winched at Edward's outburst and the subsequent noise from the bowl's landing.

Frowning, Edward reached for the remote and muted the television. Now he remembered, Russell had come over drunk last night and then...shit! What now? He could feel the heat blooming over his face and neck, and he adverted his eyes, no longer sure where to look.

"Thanks." Russell blinked, and turned around, shuffling back into Edward's room.

Leaning to the side, Edward watched open mouthed as Russell climbed back into his bed, throwing off the towel to resume sleeping. Chewing on his lip, he tried to figure out what he should do now. He was still watching the sleeping form, Russell's bare ass clearly visible, and chewing on his lip. He drew in a deep breath and held it for as long as he could before releasing it through his mouth.

He crept across the floor winching at each creak and crack of the floorboards as he moved towards his room. First thing, cover Russell. Next, find Russell's clothes and wash them for him, or maybe he should shower first. Naw, he'd just throw on some lounge pants. He didn't want to disturb Russell again. How on Earth could he have forgotten that he was here?

He paused mid step as the floor cracked loudly beneath his weight. He squeezed his eyes close, waiting for Russell's protests. After many tense moments with nothing happening, Edward cracked one eye and then the other. The slumbering man was in the same position and didn't look like he had moved. He continued his slow advance to his bedroom, and as soon as he crossed the threshold, he began to scan the floor for Russell's discarded clothing. He spotted Russell's shirt hanging off his closet door and the man's pants peeking out from under the bed. Tip toeing his way around the bed he snatched them up along with a clean pair of work out pants, he threw a corner of the sheet over Russell's bum, and dashed out of the room, closing the door behind him.

By the time Russell woke up maybe he could sort out what, or how, he should act around him now.

* * *

As the day wore on, his wash done and his cereal mess cleaned up, Edward lazed about on the couch watching the television quietly. It was going on two in the afternoon, and Russell still hadn't gotten up. He really needed to use the washroom, and shower. He worried his thumb nail between his teeth as he wondered if he should wait until Russell got up or say 'to hell with it'.

After a few more moments of struggling with a full bladder, Edward got up and walked, none to softly either, over to his closed bedroom door. He cracked the door and peered into the room. Russell was sprawled across the bed, and was thankfully covered by the sheet. He crossed the room toward the washroom, and closed the door, making sure to lock it.

He turned the taps in the bath and adjusted the temperature of the water until it was something he could stand. Pulling the leaver, the water came pouring out of the shower spout and down into the tub. Tugging the curtain closed, Edward turned striped off his clothes, taking a moment to relieve his needy bladder. Stepping inside the hot spray, Edward sighed in contentment. He took his time in the shower, not wanting to walk back into his room for the moment.

Throughout the afternoon, he had been going over all that had happened last night. The only thing that he knew for sure was that, he was _not_ freaked out by what had happened. Russell's sex, that is, being a male, didn't faze him at all; which was really surprising to him. He supposed that one would normally be pissed off or maybe offended by what Russell had done, but for him he wasn't.

Squeezing a large glob of shampoo onto his hand, Edward lathered up his hair, pilling it a top his head. He worked his strong hands through his scalp working the suds around. Leaving the shampoo for the moment, he picked up the bar of soap and started scrubbing his body.

Edward paused. Did he just hear a loud bang? Rinsing his head of shampoo, Edward hurried to get out of the shower. As soon as the water was shut off, he could hear muffled foot steps and cursing. Pulling a towel out of his linen closet, he wrapped it around his waist and opened the door. The steam billowed out around him. He scanned the room for Russell, but it was empty.

Suddenly all his anxiety about how to act around Russell was gone. If he lost his only friend, he might go back into his shell and he didn't want that. He wasn't strong enough to stand on his own yet. Hurrying across the room, he stopped in his bedroom door way.

Russell turned around to look at him. He was dressed in his freshly washed clothes, standing at the half open door with his hand on the knob, looking very disgusted with himself.

"Where're you going?" asked Edward, slightly panicked. He ignored the water running down his body, and the fact that he was dressed only in a towel.

Russell's head whipped around at the sound of Edward's voice. His eyes widened as he looked at Edward and the state he was in. Much to his own disgust, he really enjoyed what he was seeing. He dropped his gaze to the floor and frowned at himself for being so crass in a situation like this. "I'm sorry," Russell mumbled, shaking his head at himself.

"For what?" Edward took a step into the living room, leaving wet footprints behind him.

Russell's jaw worked, as he tried to find the best way to answer. He couldn't remember everything he had done last night, well, not the details anyway, but he knew he crossed the line. He clenched the still open door knob tight in his hand. He was so stupid. Edward was probably pissed as hell at him.

"Russell?" Edward took a few more cautious steps towards his friend. "I don't _want_ you to go. Please stay," Edward begged. He hated to see the distress on Russell's face.

"Wha—you want me to stay?" Russell's head snapped up and looked over at the wet, worried looking Edward standing a few feet away.

"It's Sunday," Edward mumbled as if that explained everything. They always hung out on Sunday's.

Chuckling softly under his breath, Russell closed the door to the apartment. The relief was palpable. He wasn't going to be turned away, or be called any number of horrible names. "Right. Go get dressed then."

Edward broke out into a huge grin and spun around, running back into his room and slamming the door. Yes! He still had a friend! Running around his room he tried to dry off and get dressed simultaneously. He'd show Russell. He'd make him understand.

* * *

The promenade was full of families and children enjoying the warm late afternoon sunshine. No one paid much attention to the two young men strolling in their midst. Nor did they notice how the taller of the two was looking very upset, trying valiantly to hide this from the smaller youth.

"So, where should we go next?" Edward asked, turning back to grin at Russell. Russell had been mostly quiet the whole walk down here, so the pressure was on him to fill in the awkward silence. Something he was not good at.

"Edward..." began Russell.

"Yeah?" Edward stopped walking and tilted his head at his friend.

"Talk to me, please?" begged Russell, no longer able to take the dancing and tip toeing around the thing they most needed to talk about.

"I thought I was?" Edward made his statement into a question. He looked worriedly up at Russell, wondering if maybe he'd said something he shouldn't have. He was pretty sure that all the inane things he'd talked about would be considered 'safe' in light of what happened.

"About last night, not about the weather," said Russell, with a hint of amusement in his voice. The small smile on his lips vanished as the seriousness of the situation settled heavily on him making him somber again.

"Oh..." Edward's shoulders slumped. So Russell really did want to talk about that. But, really he didn't have a clue about what to say now.

"Come here, let's sit." Russell led the way to a park bench under a large oak tree away from the crowds of people. He sat on one side of the bench and looked expectantly at Edward, standing on the path.

Edward couldn't help it; his heart was fluttering within his chest. He swallowed, took a deep breath to try and calm his nerves, and then forced his feet to move. He sat down beside the other bench arm, but the seat was small to begin with so they were almost touching thighs. Edward dug his elbows into the tops of his knees and stared at the ground, unable to meet Russell's intense and searching gaze.

"Edward...do you know why I was out drinking last night?" asked Russell, his voice seemed quite distant and thoughtful.

"No," returned Edward, keeping his eyes on the gravel path before them.

"Hmm...well, you've been asking about me and Fletcher, well we used to be..." Russell trailed off, thoughtful. Edward looked sidelong as Russell searched for someway to explain. Russell flicked his gaze over to Edward's curious face and then back to the park. "We used to be together. As a couple."

Edward's eyebrows raised in surprise. He had not been expecting that. A couple eh? But Fletcher was into women, wasn't he?

"And then he met this girl, Riza, and it ended..." Russell frowned. The corner of his eyes tightened with the pain of that night. The shouting and yelling, the harsh words they each had thrown at one another... "Badly. It wasn't until just after you came here that we were able to talk and hang out again."

"How did you know about what Riza did then?" Edward asked, sitting upright and pressing his back in to the back of the bench. Hadn't Russell said that Fletcher had walked in on Riza with someone.

"Tch, he came to me and told me all about it. I didn't want to hear it, but somehow I thought that maybe, if I was a good friend, he'd come back to me." Russell looked over across the promenade, unable to meet Edward's searching eyes. What a fool he was. He really should have known better then to believe that, but he had been missing Fletcher so badly at the time, he was willing to delude himself.

They fell silent. Edward mulled over the new piece of information while he studied the ground again. "So...you were using me as a buffer?" he wondered aloud.

"Sort of. I don't think it would have worked with Fletcher, not in the long run anyway. We had to learn how to be around each other and not rip our clothes off or yell at each other. You did that."

Edward nodded. "So...?" prompted Edward, wanting to know more.

Russell winced and then frowned. "Last night, Fletcher calls to tell me he's back with Riza, and how he's so happy. After I got off the phone...I..." He swallowed and ran his hand through his bangs. "I couldn't stand it. By the time I knew what I was doing, I had already drunk a 40 ouncer of vodka and was well into a bottle of whiskey. I was pretty pissed at myself, so I went for a walk and next thing I knew I was at your building." Russell folded his leg closest to Edward under him and turned to face the small teenager. He gripped the back of the bench and stared into those worried whiskey-colored eyes.

"Was I just...handy?" asked Edward. For some reason his chest really hurt.

Russell's face softened. He lifted his hand from the back of the bench and dug into the blond hair trailing down Edward's neck to massage the tension he found there. Edward watched him intently, waiting for his answer. "No..." Russell squeezed his neck lightly. "I was taken with you from the start." He let his hand fall away to the back of the bench and watched the children running around the fountain in the middle of the park.

Edward studied Russell's profile. His feelings were in a state of confusion, and he thought he had sorted this out this morning. Okay, so he liked Russell, but he was still in love with Winry, but lately...he had begun to think about her just a little less often. That was just due to distance though, he was sure. How fair would it be to begin anything when he was conflicted to begin with. He felt that he needed to respond somehow. Without thinking about what he was going to say, Edward would just say what was in his heart.

"Russell?" Edward touched the arm on the back of the bench lightly. Russell focused his blue eyes on him and Edward fought to not chicken out now. "Um..." he let his hand drop and worried the nail on his thumb. "Um...well...I like you too..." He could feel the heat inching across his face. "But...I won't be staying here...I'll be going back to the States. We shouldn't—"

"That doesn't bother me, unless it does you. I know you're shy Edward, and I don't want any more then you can give me." Russell's hand found it way back to Edward's neck, and he began to rub small circles into the base of his skull.

Letting his hand drop back to his lap, Edward half closed his eyes and leaned into Russell's hand. "Can we...just...let things happen? I mean, do we have to define this now? I'm not even sure about...you know...guys, and all," he mumbled.

Russell's mouth quirked. "Yes, we can do that. If you promise to tell me as soon as we go too far."

Edward let his eyes close and nodded. Those fingers were working away his tension and making him drowsy.

"Alright, none of that now. Looking kissable in the park, will make me jump you," teased Russell, tapping the back of Edward's head playfully. Edward's eyes opened in shock and he grunted with knock on his head. "Let's get some food." Russell stood and held out his hand for Edward.

Edward looked at the outstretched hand and then up into Russell's face. He smiled and took Russell's hand. He was yanked to his feet, and then Russell threw and arm around Edward's shoulder's bringing him into the taller boy's chest, where he was given a harsh nugie.

"HEY! Ha ha! Stop!" Edward gasped, and dug his fingers into Russell's ribs in retaliation tickling his long torso.

A brief wrestling match ensued, and if Russell was in the same weight class as Edward he would have lost, but he couldn't help making sure Edward knew how easy he was over powered as they walked to the café, much to Edward's embarrassment.

* * *

"Time! Time!" Ling shouted over the screams, trying to get the referee's attention. As soon as he had the clock stopped, he motioned Edward over. "How is it?" he asked once in ear shot.

Edward spit out his mouth piece and gasped. "Ah! My leg's...hah...weak...I don't know," Edward breathed hard, leaning on his knees. He could feel his left leg shaking under his hand and he gritted his teeth.

"Do you want to forfeit?" Ling massaged the injured spot making Edward wince. He did not want his prize fighter to push himself in his first tournament and feel discouraged by it. It was supposed to be a pleasant challenge, not a fight to see how gets pummeled the fastest.

"No!" Edward rubbed his forehead into the cloth of his martial arts uniform, wiping the sweat. He could do this, he was sure of it. He'd just been surprised at the power of that one kick that had landed right on the bone of his thigh.

"Fifteen seconds!" yelled the referee, drawing their conference to a close.

"Okay, then stay on his right side, he's slow there. Work the joints," coached Ling.

Nodding, Edward replaced his mouth guard and walked back to the center of the mat to face his dark, Greek opponent. The bell rung and the match was on.

Edward circled the mat, looking for an opening. As his opponent switched stances, making his right side dominant, Edward struck. He dropped to his knees and kicked out with his left leg, taking out the guy's support leg. He fell back hard on his hip. In an instant, Edward was on him, grappling him into submission by flipping him on to his stomach and making an arm bar.

Ling's voice drifted over to him above the noise of the crowd, yelling at him to get points not submission holds. Edward threw the arm down and struck two quick blows to the kidneys before pushing the Greek's upper body back into to the mat, giving him time to back away.

The referee came between them holding Edward off so that the Greek would have time to stand. As soon as the referee brought his hand down, Edward was leaping at his opponent. He threw a quick four-punch combo, making the other man back away. With the Greek's hands now covering his face, Edward struck out with a roundhouse to the man's gut, knocking the wind out of the Greek. Before putting his foot on the ground, Edward repaid the favor to his own leg and kicked at the man's left knee, knocking him to the ground once more.

Again the referee came between them, as his opponent was slow to get to his feet. Edward bounced in place, adrenaline coursing through him, his wounded leg all but forgotten. The referee spoke to the Greek, checking to see if he was good to continue the match. When the Greek nodded, Edward grinned around his mouth piece.

Once again Ling's voice came to him, telling him he had one minute left. The Greek was mad now, Edward could see it. He came at him with fists flying, forcing Edward around the mat, as the Greek tried to pin him in the corner. Fighting from the back foot, or back peddling, wasn't very common, so when Edward struck out with a kick once more to the man's left leg, then the mid section and then the head, the Greek just blinked at him stunned. Using his opponent's hesitation to his advantage, Edward rushed in and broke through his guard, landing two more blows to the kidneys before he was clinched.

The Greek pushed on him, ignoring the referee's command to break for a few moments before Edward was shoved back and they squared off once more. Edward eyed his opponent. He was sweating profusely and gulping down the air, where as Edward was just lightly winded. The Greek came at him again, slower this time. He was hardly offering up a challenge, as Edward danced out of range.

"Keep it up Edward, thirty seconds..." Ling yelled.

Edward continued to work the back foot, as the Greek chased him around the ring. He picked up his foot and continually broke through the Greek's guard to score hits on all his vital areas. In fact, Edward so outclassed his opponent that the Greek had yet to get a good hit in on him other then the one on his leg.

The clock ran down and the bell rung. Both fighters touched gloves and stood on either side of the referee. The referee held both fighters' wrists.

"Judge's decision?" the referee asked the four corners of the mat. All four of the judges crossed their hands in front of their chest and at the same time they all held aloft a clicker with a red flag in the air. "Winner! Edward Elric!" The referee held aloft Edward's wrist.

As soon as he was released, Edward touched gloves with the Greek once more, thanking him for the match and then walked off the mat next to Ling.

"Well done!" Ling beamed at him and clasped his shoulder. "He was actually a very hard opponent, but you steamrolled him. Well done!"

Edward started at that. He wasn't a tough opponent at all. "Whoa..." He reached down and pulled a small towel out of his kit bag to wipe his face.

"Two more matches and we'll have won your weight class. Don't get cold." Ling walked away, heading over to the ring Leo was fighting in at the moment.

All of a sudden a very piercing whistle could be heard through out the large hotel conference room. "EDWARD! GO, EDWARD!"

Edward turned to the crowd and waved at Fletcher who was standing on his chair. Russell was clapping and cheering. Edward waved once more and then scooped up his bag and went to stretch before his next match.

* * *

"Woo-HOO! That was so AWSOME!" gushed Fletcher, jumping on Edward's back, and pumping the air.

"Ugh!" Edward staggered under Fletcher's sudden weight. He grabbed onto his legs and fought for balance.

"You totally kicked Greek ass!" shouted Fletcher right in Edward's ear, making Edward wince at the volume.

"Geez, Ed, you're going to out do us in no time," said Rick, as he smiled at Fletcher's antics.

"Yes, I think so too. In fact, I think I underestimated your abilities." Ling smiled lazily, strolling along beside Leo.

Fletcher slipped off of Edward's back and slapped Rick on the shoulder. "You weren't so bad yourself. What was that last move you did?"

"Ha ha, that's top secret." Rick said, smiling at him. Fletcher didn't like that answer and started badgering Rick to tell him or at least show him how to do that move.

"Where did we park again?" Leo wondered, scanning all the parked cars.

"Over this way," said Russell, pointing to his left. They all turned and started off in that direction. As Edward passed by him, Russell draped an arm across Edward's shoulders and gave him a brief half hug. "Great job, you were magnificent to watch," he whispered into his ear.

"Thanks." Edward blushed hard at the compliment and the contact. "I'm glad you came. I just wish my da could have seen it."

"Maybe next time we should tape it for him," suggested Russell.

"I'd like that," Edward said, smiling up into Russell's face.

He couldn't help it, Edward was just so cute. Russell leaned in and stole a quick kiss, making Edward smirk. He reached up and ruffled Edward's already messy hair. "Boy I can't wait until you have a shower."

"Hey," pouted Edward, batting away the hand.

"There it is!" Fletcher pointed to their van. "Now we can _drink_!"

* * *

"...And then just as I was striping the knife, which for some reason had to be a real one, I stabbed myself in the thigh (1). I knew something was wrong as soon as I felt the warmth on my leg. It didn't hurt until later," said Ling, and then sipped at his beer can from his seat in the armchair.

"And this was at a school demo? In front of kids?" Fletcher asked wide eyed.

"Yeah, I got a lot of calls later, wondering if I had really stabbed myself. No new students though...I wonder why." Ling scratched the side of his face. Fletcher cracked up, holding his side.

"I can't believe you did that, Ling. It's so crazy," Rick said from his seat on the couch. He idly strummed his guitar, and shook his head at his instructor. Ling just smirked lazily in response.

"Hey, I want to drink something," demanded Edward, fresh from his shower. He rubbed the towel around his neck into his hair.

"Here," Russell waved a glass at him from his position on the couch.

Edward smiled and stepped over Fletcher's and Rick's legs, to sit on the floor in front of Russell.

"Oh, good. I'm dying for my shower," Leo said as he jumped to his feet, heading for the bathroom.

Once settled in front of Russell's legs with his glass in hand, Edward leaned back into Russell's shins. He nudged the legs apart so that his back was resting on the edge of the couch.

Russell reached forward and took the towel off of Edward's neck and began to rub the golden blond hair dry. The conversation continued around them but they paid it no mind. As soon as Russell was satisfied that Edward's hair was going to get as dry as possible, he began to finger comb through its length. He couldn't help the smirk that slid across his face when he felt, rather then heard, Edward's growl of contentment.

Making three sections, Russell braided the length. He reached over Edward's shoulder, and held his hand out. Edward removed the elastic from around his wrist and passed it over his shoulder to him. He worked the elastic around the ends and threw the braid over Edward's neck. Knowing how stiff Edward must be getting, Russell leaned forward and began to work the kinks out of his neck and shoulders. Edward's head dropped to his chest, giving him full access, and he could feel another growl rumble its way through the back of the couch.

"Russell, if you keep that up, you're going to put him to sleep," Fletcher laughed.

"Ah, well. It's not like he hasn't earned it," retorted Russell. "Gold's pretty impressive for a first try." He nodded at the coffee table where Edward, Leo and Rick had placed their medals. Fletcher nodded his agreement and turned towards Ling, asking him something else.

"Okay, Russell." Edward lifted his head and looked over his shoulder. "I really will fall asleep, but thanks I feel better."

"Good." Russell smiled and patted his shoulder. "Are you going to sleep with me tonight?" he mumbled.

"Ah, okay," Edward blushed. "But, I...ah..." His heart fluttered within his chest. Would he be expected to have sex, or just the mutual touching they had done so far. He didn't really feel too confident about having sex, at least not yet—not mentally...his body was sure ready though.

"No pressure," Russell assured him, seeing his panicked look.

Edward relaxed and smiled before turning back to join into the conversation. It wasn't long before Edward was feeling quite loose and relaxed; his tired muscles forgotten thanks to the alcohol's influence. Rick and Leo provided the back ground noise as they strummed the guitar and talked.

"Hey Edward, why don't you sing for us?" Rick blurted out during a lull in the conversation.

Edward paused mid sip, the beer bottle hovering next to his lips as he looked side long at Rick from his position on the floor.

"Well?" Rick quirked an eyebrow at him. Edward flushed crimson and swallowed, his eyes as large as saucers.

"Edward? You sing?" Russell asked from the kitchen. He popped the top off his next beer, and came back to the couch.

"Um...well..." Edward stuttered.

"Yeah, he's always belting out the tunes and dancing around the place during practice," Leo said, looking at Russell as he talked.

"Leo!" hissed Edward. He snapped his hand back and forth across his neck, trying to get him to drop it.

"Yeah, com'on Edward. Sing!" Fletcher shuffled up along side the seated teen and stared intently at him.

"No!" Edward turned away from Fletcher's leering face, and pouted.

"Com'on, com'on, com'on!" Fletcher stabbed Edward's ribs with the tip of his finger for each time he asked. Growling, Edward tired to catch the finger, but it was whisked away before he could trap it. As soon as he turned away Fletcher's finger was back, needling his side again.

Setting his beer on the coffee table in front of him, Edward sprang off the floor and tackled Fletcher around the chest, knocking him to the ground. Even inebriated he was able to pin Fletcher, flipping him over onto his front and locking the arm, forcing his face into the carpet. The room cracked up around them, and even with Fletcher's pleas for help no one made a move.

Edward smirked and was about to release him when he felt fingers tickling his ribs from behind. "Ah HA! Stop!" shouted Edward. He squirmed, letting Fletcher's arm go, so that he could bat at the fingers. He was wrestled to the floor, where his sides were attacked mercilessly. Russell was laughing as hard as he was, as his fingers continued their assault. Fletcher even helped by pinning down his legs. "Please..." he gasped, out of breath.

Finally, Russell relented and let him catch his breath. Edward lay on the floor spent and exhausted. Russell leaned over him and he tensed.

"Hm...I like that look," Russell spoke in a murmur, his voice full of innuendo.

"What look?" asked Edward, suspicious. He narrowed his eyes.

"The 'spent, and exhausted' look. Very nice," murmured Russell as he winked. He reached out and pulled a strand of hair away from Edward's eyes.

Edward snorted and sat up. "I got to pee. Be right back."

"NO! Edward! Don't break the seal!" Fletcher called to him as he walked up the stairs, causing the other boys to laugh.

Sometime later, Edward was sitting on the couch next to Rick. After expressing an interest in learning to play the guitar, Rick had immediately deposited the instrument in Edward's lap and began lessons. Shifting the guitar into a more comfortable position on his leg, he struggled to get his fingers to obey. Maybe he shouldn't be trying this while he was drinking. Rick was a patient teacher though, which helped.

All in all, it made for a very nice house party in Russell's cabin. To Edward though, this cabin was more like a proper house. It had indoor plumbing, finished walls and ceilings, even a sliding glass door with a large deck. Not a cabin at all. He had tried to argue with Russell about his definition of a cabin, but he didn't buy Edward's arguments.

"Here let me see that for a sec." Rick pulled the guitar from Edward's fumbling fingers and settled it in his lap. "Do you know any Nora Jones songs?"

"Yeah, those ones you listen to at practice?" wondered Edward.

"Hmm...can you sing 'Don't Know Why I Didn't Come'?" Rick quirked an eyebrow at him. He strummed the first few cords of the song, waiting to see if Edward knew which one he meant.

"Maybe..." Edward scratched his eye, trying to remember the words.

"_I waited till I saw the sun,_" sang Rick with his broken voice, and then stopped. He really shouldn't sing if he could help it. The world did not need that.

"Right," said Edward. Now he remembered. Rick started to strum the opening cords and nodded at Edward when he should start. "_I waited 'til I saw the sun, I don't know why I didn't come, I left you by the house of fun, I don't know why I didn't come, I don't know why I didn't come._" Edward's voice was deep and raspy but it was prefect for the bluesy style of music.

"Good, I like that. Second verse," mumbled Rick, changing cords.

"_When I saw the break of day, I wished that I could fly away, instead of kneeling in the sand, catching teardrops in my hand. My heart is drenched in wine, you've bee—_"

"Jesus, Edward! You _can_ sing?" Fletcher exclaimed, finally noticing what they were up too in the living room. Most of the boys had moved to the open kitchen to be closer to the beer and snacks that Russell was making.

Rick stopped his strumming and looked up. He smirked at the unfocused, glazed over look Fletcher was throwing his way. It didn't concern him so he went back to playing his guitar.

Edward jumped up in embarrassment, flushing right down to his neck. He stepped over Rick's long outstretched legs, almost tripping as he became unsteady with the alcohol he had already consumed, and wondered over to Russell, who was leaning up against the kitchen counter watching him intently.

"I need a drink," stated Fletcher, pulling open the fridge as Edward padded by.

Swaying slightly, Edward fell into Russell's chest, burrowing his face into his shirt. His arms slid around Russell's waist, pulling his lower half into Russell's.

"Whoa," murmured Russell, he slid his arm around the teenager trying to nestle into his skin. "How come you're so sookie?" Edward just rumbled in response. Russell chuckled and let his chin rest on the top of the teen's head.

Edward shifted, turning his head to the side to look back into the living room. Russell's adjusted him, and his eyes went half mast as he felt Russell's groin brush against his. It wasn't intended to be sexual, Edward was sure of that, but the idea was in his head now. His stomach began to tingle with desire, and he stepped closer to make their groins meet.

He just caught the very last of a soft groan that escaped from Russell's mouth. Raising his head, Edward looked up into Russell's darkening gaze.

"What are you up too?" Russell mumbled with a suspicious look on his face.

In answer, Edward nudged Russell's chin with his nose. Pressing his body into Russell's he went up on his tip toes to steal a feather light kiss. He smirked around the kiss as Russell's hand tightened on his waist and he could feel his own groin twitch in response. Edward slowly lowered himself to the floor, making sure he dragged his body along Russell's in the process. He smirked wider as Russell bit his lip, staring intently into his eyes.

"I got to go to the bathroom. Back in a sec," Edward mumbled. He turned around unsteadily, and walked out of the kitchen towards the stairs.

By the time he exited the washroom, Edward was whirled around and shoved into the wall. His eyes widened as Russell's eager mouth descended over his, stealing his breath away. He snaked his arms around Russell's neck as his mouth was licked and tasted.

Russell's hands were everywhere, dragging his shirt up around his armpits, and down to cup this hardening groin through his jeans. Edward groaned into Russell's domineering mouth. In the next instant he was lifted up to sit on Russell's waist; the kiss never broke. He neither knew nor cared where he was being taken.

Russell pulled away to attack Edward's neck, savoring the blond's slightly salty skin. He kicked open the door to his bedroom and dropped Edward in the middle of the mattress.

Edward looked up through his bangs, as Russell loomed over him making him squirm along the bed towards the headboard.

Russell stepped back to the door, firmly shutting them in the dark room. Stalking over to the bed, he slowly crawled across the comforter towards the little tease looking at him with half slitted eyes. Placing his hands and knees on either side of Edward's body, Russell snaked out a hand to trail up the exposed stomach, watching intently for the minute movement and tensing of the muscle.

Running his hand under Edward's arm, he lifted the shirt up and off; Edward coming forward to make it easier to remove. Before flopping back into the pillows Edward had his own hands tugging and lifting Russell's shirt. Russell leaned back, away from Edward's touch and pulled the offending shirt off, throwing it away to the floor.

Resuming his position over Edward, Russell leaned in and attacked the side of Edward's neck with his teeth and tongue. One hand ruined Edward's braid while the other trailed down to his hip to prevent him from arching off the bed. If he was going to tease him in front of everyone, he was going to get a little pay back.

"Nugh, Russell. Let me move," whined Edward. He pushed at the hand on his hip and then groaned when Russell bit down on his nipple. Reaching between their bodies, Edward palmed Russell growing erection through the front of his jeans, tugging a bit in warning.

"What's that matter, Eddie? Don't like what I'm doing?" Russell asked in a slightly condescending tone full of mirth.

Edward growled at the use of such a childish name. At times like this, Russell had taken to using that name to tease him and get him all worked up. But Edward really didn't like it. "I told you before not to call me 'Eddie'." Edward pulled at the belt around Russell's waist releasing the prong in order to open the belt up, and then he flicked open the button.

Russell looked down between them to watch Edward's progress. "My apologies, I won't do it again," he replied absently, too intent with what those smaller hands were currently doing. He couldn't believe that Edward was showing some initiative, and it made it all that much hotter because of it.

"I think you should drink more often," he said and then sighed as Edward finally got his pants open and slipped his hand under the band of his underwear. He closed his eyes for a moment to enjoy the teasing, feather light touches before leaning in to reclaim Edward's mouth. Edward released his erection and shifted so that both hands were now kneading his behind, working the pants and underwear down at the same time.

Russell shimmied out of his pants and attacked Edward's. The need for full naked body contact was very high right now. Russell yanked Edward's pants off with his boxers following quickly after. He slowly rested on his side, allowing his body to slide along Edward's, with his need bumping into his hip.

"Ah, fuck," sighed Edward. He turned on his side and worked his hands under Russell's arms, pulling the taller man close and began to attack his neck.

Russell moaned and thrust his lower half at Edward. He knew better then to push Edward too far too fast, but he would have really like to go all the way. Instead he reached down between them once more and gripped both of their erections together and began pumping.

Edward franticly pawed at Russell; wanting more friction, more touching, more everything. He bucked into Russell hand, loving the feel of the other man's penis sliding along his. Before long, the nice and easy pace that Russell set became frantic and erratic as they both neared their peak.

Edward came first. But Russell continued to pump him along with his erection cuming a few moments later. Laying his head back into the pillows, Russell kissed the top of Edward's head before leaning back and snagging his shirt off the floor, using it to clean them up. With a sigh, he pulled the now boneless Edward down onto his chest and allowed his eyes to close in contentment.

* * *

"Where's Russell and Edward?" Leo wondered, looking up from his hand of cards.

"They went to bed," said Fletcher, winking suggestively.

"Oh..." Leo blushed.

-- To be continued --

So... How was it? Did the lime, like, totally suck? I don't think many people liked the last one... XS Let me know okay!

Please review. Happy author's update faster after all!


	9. Chapter 08

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

Thanks to ZaKai who continues to work hard for my sake XD Love ya, Chicky! I value all your lessons, and I'm sure you appreciate my growth as you don't have to continue to write 'one space, comma,' all the time XD

**Chapter 8**

"Mother?" Winry called from the bottom of the stairs, craning her neck to look up to the second floor. "Mother! Where is everyone?" she mumbled to herself, before looking back up the stairs and calling out loudly, "Roy!" She peered up the solid oak stair case trying to see if anyone was near. Tapping her white, canvas sneakered foot, she dropped her tennis bag on the floor, and crossed her arms.

"Morning, Winry."

"Roy!" Winry spun around, to find her always smug brother standing in the hallway next to the kitchen. She frowned at him and was about to say some witty comment, before she remembered what she wanted to ask him. "Roy, are you coming back tonight? Will you be here for supper?"

"I wasn't planning on coming back tonight. Why?" wondered Roy, he sipped at his mug of coffee, raising an eyebrow at her over the rim of his mug. Placing the cup on the side table, he shook out his suit jacket once in order to put it on.

"Well you are now," Winry ordered him. "Oh my God! I met someone. He's amazing. I can't even begin to describe—it was... There I was at some random party and next thing I know, old man Thomas falls over and _he_ rushes out of the crowd and saves his life... When he comes over you got to make me look good. You know, talk up my good points." Winry paused when she noticed Roy's doubtful look. "Make something up." Roy's eyebrows rose into his hair line. "Lie!" she yelled, frowning.

"Winry... Ah, fine, I'll tell him how you're such a kind and caring woman, you even go down to the local soup kitchen to give out watered down broth to the homeless." Roy shook his head at the mental picture _that_ caused. He reached into his sleeves of his jacket and pulled down the cuffs of his shirt, chuckling to himself.

"Let's keep it believable here," glared Winry. She frowned at Roy's smirk and spun around, taking the steps two at a time to the landing. "Mother? Are you even up here?" she called, straining to hear her response. "Hey...when did you two start working on the weekends?" she wondered, looking down at Roy from the landing.

"It's Thursday." Roy pressed his lips at his sister. He was not impressed. Really, how the hell could she be so callous about how hard he worked for this family? All she ever did was play around while he worked hard to make sure she could continue doing just that. It wouldn't hurt to get some kind of recognition for his hard work.

"Really? Huh..." She frowned as if she were trying to figure out where the time went.

Roy just rolled his eyes at his sister's acting. He knew she hadn't a clue what day it was. There wasn't a care in the world for her. Much to his continuing frustration.

* * *

"I suppose Winry asked you to say in tonight?" Pinako said. She scanned through the financial section of the paper as she spoke.

"Hm," grunted Roy. He was reviewing the financial history of a company he was thinking about taking over, and was only half listening to what his mother was saying.

"Do you know _who_ she's invited?" Pinako asked after a few minutes of silence. She glanced out the car window at the passing country side. This was really too rich.

"Hm..." Roy turned a page of the report. "Who?" Not that he cared in the slightest who his younger sister's latest obsession was. Although it was unusual that she was bringing him home for dinner.

"The Hughes' boy." Pinako's lip quirked as she waited for her son's reaction. She watched closely as the information worked its way through the fog of business mergers and take-overs to finally register.

Roy looked up from his report and over at his mother, trying to verify the truth of what she was saying. She calmly met his gaze. "Alphonse Hughes? As in, Maes Hughes's son? Of Hughes Technologies? She's dating _him_?"

"Hm-hmm." Pinako smirked. It was exactly like her reaction.

Roy rubbed the side of his nose, thinking. Shaking his head, he reached into his jacket and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed a well known number and put the phone to his ear. "Alex, get me Sig...Sig, I'd like you to start buying stock in Hughes Technologies." Roy looked over at his mother's appraising look and he raised an eyebrow at her in a silent question. She shook her head and snapped her paper upright. "No, I don't want them to know about it. Right as much as you can. Thank you."

Roy snapped his phone closed and replaced it in his jacket, and went back to reading his report. After a while he could feel Pinako's eyes on him. "What, mother?"

"Nothing dear," Pinako chuckled and continued reading her paper.

Hohenheim glanced in the rear view mirror.

* * *

"Alphonse, a pleasure to finally meet you." Pinako held out her hands to take the young man's hand in her own. She had to admit that he was quite a catch. Soft dirty blond hair, warm brown eyes, tall with broad shoulders; a catch. If Winry knew what was good for her, she wouldn't let this one get away.

"Mrs. Mustang, my father speaks of you often." Al smiled at her warmly. He held onto her hand a moment longer then necessary and smiled before releasing her hand.

"And this is my brother, Roy." Winry held out her hand towards Roy as he approached the group from the other room.

"Alphonse." Roy shook the other man's hand. "I hear your family has just bought into the China market. Very impressive."

"Thanks, and you can call me Al. Alphonse is way too formal," Al smirked good naturedly. "I've heard a lot about you. The bull dog of the business world, from all accounts."

Roy chuckled politely. "Well someone has to be."

"Al's just been promoted. To the head of his floor. I said he could count on a couple of million from us," interrupted Winry, bringing the conversation back to more pleasant things and away from business. Once Roy got going he wouldn't stop talking shop. She grinned at her family. This would get Roy's mind away from business for sure.

"Winry," Pinako breathed, exacerbated at her daughter's gall.

"Ha ha ha, that's our Winry," interrupted Roy. He threw an arm around his sister's shoulders, giving her a little shake, rougher then necessary. He wanted these two to work out if it was going to work for his plans. So many people were after Hughes Technologies right now. They needed a leg up over the competition. If a couple of million got them in the door, Roy was willing to pay it. Pinako threw him an incredulous look but kept her mouth shut.

* * *

Closing his bedroom door behind him, Roy covered his mouth as a jaw cracking yawn worked its way out of him. He honestly couldn't believe some of the things he had said in order to make Winry look good for her date. Roy rubbed at his eyes and the tears from his yawn.

He pulled on his tie until the knot came loose and threw it over the foot board of his bed. Despite some of the crazy things he had said, Roy couldn't help but notice the way his sister would stare at Al when she thought there was no one looking. He had never seen her so incredibly taken with someone before. It made him a little bit jealous...and lonely.

Roy stopped those thoughts cold. He did not have time to dwell on such things. Mustang Inc. was expanding at an exponential rate. The merger with Virgin Mobile was going ahead nicely and expected to close next week, sooner if he could engineer it, and now he was sniffing around Hughes Technologies.

Thoughts of a personal life were insignificant compared to the demands the company made of him and his time. He had to be ruthless and having a liability such as a relationship would jeopardize his focus. He is ruthless. He once sued a hotel he was staying in because it didn't deliver on its promise to wake him at the time he had requested.

The drive back into the city had been very draining. Usually if he was staying that late at the house he wouldn't have bothered to drive back to the city, but he had an early meeting in the morning. His condo was on the top floor of his building, over looking the city. He loved it here. Loved the way the sun rose over the water in the harbour making it shimmer. Loved that he had such a great view all to himself... All to himself...

Pulling off his suit jacket, Roy strode into his walk-in closet and hung it on a wooden cedar hanger. Flicking open the buttons of his dress shirt, Roy frowned. Would he ever find someone that he would look at like that? If he did find them—what if...what if he had already found them and because he was so busy he had missed out. That was a disturbing thought. With a shake of his head, Roy finished pulling off his shirt and threw it into the hamper. He would just rather not know if his soul mate was with someone else.

* * *

Edward sat in his padded arm chair, which he had pulled to the window, and stared out at the city vista. Russell had gone home a few hours ago, leaving him feeling alone and depressed. Although, he had to admit that he wasn't depressed that Russell was no longer here...it seemed to be from something else.

Looking across the room, Edward studied his cork board. Winry's picture was almost all covered up now with the various things he had collected from his adventures, just her eyes and a bit of her face was all he could see. The more he covered her up, the less she seemed to hurt him. Russell always looked at it. Edward wondered what was going through his head as he stared at her face. He really missed her...didn't he?

He looked back out the window. There was a time, when he was younger, that both of the Mustang siblings and him had shared a lot of the same private lessons. Ballroom dancing, riding, singing, tennis... Edward had been included, but mostly as a practice dummy. 'This is what not to do, children' the various instructors would say to Roy and Winry pointing at him. Before he had begun to be included with them, he had been a happy, confident child. He could remember how he would mouth off at the other servants and even Mrs. Mustang on occasion.

It all started with those lessons.

His sense of worth was broken down and smashed to the ground, until he was a shy and timid boy. To the mind of a six-year-old right and wrong is sometimes hard to figure out. Looking back now, Edward saw that the Mustang's various private instructors had set out to make him feel low and worthless, that he should be happy to be in their presence.

He was happy to be in Winry's presence, but little else.

It was there that Edward finally learned that he was the son of the 'help' and not on an even playing field as his father's employer and her children. It was there, within those lessons that Edward found out, though no one told this to him, that he was below insignificant. It was there that Edward began to watch rather then participate. It was there that Edward had changed.

He was proud, now, of his growth and accomplishment he had made while here in Paris. A gold medal...hard to say you're worthless when you have that. Coming to Paris...it was really helping him understand what his father always said to him, that there is more to life then watching the Mustangs.

Russell was great, never pushing him further then he felt comfortable with...but did he love him? No...Edward didn't think so. He was really fond of Russell, but he didn't feel the butterflies he associated with love and Winry. Russell was comfortable and safe, he lifted Edward up, making him feel his worth again, and even though it hadn't happened very often, when they touched each other, he had enjoyed it. Edward wondered how long Russell would wait for him to be ready for sex.

Fletcher had joked that he must be an abnormal teenager to not have had sex yet, but he just didn't want it to be cheep. He wanted it to be...Winry.

Edward sighed. Perhaps he wasn't quite over Winry yet.

* * *

Winry paced up and down the corridor in front of the nurses station. Her silk dress slid against her skin but she paid it no mind. Her coat was covering most of her dress from view, of which she was glad. Never in a day had she felt self conscious about her wealth, but here in full view of the parents and sick children she was humbled. Her stiletto heals clicked across the linoleum floor sounding loud in the hush of the ward, as she passed the desk again.

She was late, unreasonable late for a party, but somehow that seemed irrelevant while she was within these walls. Winry was not used to feeling this way towards anyone but herself. She never had too. So why now?

Winry looked up the hall and through an open room door. She could just see Al moving about and talking with a patient. He looked so fine in his standard issue, polyester-blend lab coat he was wearing. His broad shoulders were to die for. Winry wanted to rush over and run her hands along those lovely shoulder blades and taste his skin, something she had yet to do.

For the first time in her life, she hadn't rushed into bed, and she was glad. Al seemed to feel the same way. Of course he was from a rich family like her own, and had most likely lived how she had. Flitting from tryst to tryst, never getting to know their partners in the quest for greener pastures. She only assumed this, but she felt that she wasn't far from the mark.

Al finally looked up and over at her, winking at her before he turned back to his patient. That simple acknowledgment of her presence sent tingles all the way down to her pink painted toes. How on Earth did he do that to her? She was beyond such baby feelings of excitement. Wasn't she?

A serene smile graced her face.

Al made her weak in all the right places. Finally he was finished with his patient and he waved at them as they left. Winry smiled wider as he walked towards her. Her eyes roved over his body as the fabric bunched when he put the stethoscope around his neck.

"Hey, sorry to make you wait. I'm sorry, I ruined our evening," Al pouted down at Winry's upturned face. "You look...fantastic."

"So do you," murmured Winry. She stepped into his welcoming arms and laid her head on his chest. She loved his smell, and she inhaled it greedily. His chest rumbled with laughter under her ear, and she smiled to herself.

"So...my shift ends soon," Al murmured. He ran his hands along the back of the dark woolen coat Winry was wearing.

Winry burrowed deeper into the embrace. "You must be tired. Shall I run you a bath, and while you soak away the day, I can—"

"Will you be joining me?" Al pushed the woman in his arms away so he could see her reaction.

Smiling up into his hopeful face, Winry felt the unfamiliar fluttering within her stomach, making her weak kneed. "I'd _love_ that."

* * *

Winry walked into the dimly, candle lit bathroom with her hands lightly cradling two glasses of white wine and stopped as soon as she saw the tub. Al had sunk low in the water, resting his head on the back of the tub. His eyes were closed and one wet arm was flung over the edge, dangling in space. Drops of water ran down his forearm, traveling down his muscled hand to fall to the bath mat. Her eye's roved over the exposed flesh hungrily, and she licked her lips.

Quietly crossing the room on bare feet, she set the wine glasses down on the far side of the tub, at Al's feet. Al hadn't moved or acknowledged her presence. Looking down into the diminishing suds, she could just make out the bent legs and muscled torso.

Folding Al's borrowed robe under her, Winry sat on the edge of the tub, studying Al's face. Reaching out with the tips of her fingers she brushed his long bangs off to the side of his smooth face. A heavy sigh worked its way free of his lip and he blinked his eye's open to look sleepily up at her.

"Sorry," Al mumbled. "I did it again." Water sloshed around the tub as he sat up.

"Silly," Winry teased, and caressed Al's cheek. "Why don't you dry off and we can watch TV and fall asleep in each other's arms."

Al smiled lazily, and leaned into her hand. "I'd like that."

"Then, I'll meet you in your living room." Winry stood and walked out of the bathroom to give Al some privacy. Crossing the penthouse to Al's bedroom, she pulled out a t-shirt and pair of boxers, donning the large clothing. She was sure Al wouldn't mind, as she only had her dress as an alternative. Throwing the robe over the back of the chair near her, she walked back out to the living room and sat on the couch. Al came out a few moments latter, yawning into his hand.

"Blanket?" reminded Winry before he could sit.

"Right," Al turned away and walked into the bedroom. He returned with what could only be the comforter from his bed. He shook out the blanket and sat on the large soft couch. He watched as Winry stretched out, wearing his clothes, and smiled. He drew the covers over them as he lay down beside her and situated her in his arms. He didn't even bother turning on the television, and within minutes he was fast asleep.

Winry watched her view of his neck and the pulse throb beneath the lightly tanned skin, just listening to the sound of his breathing. "Al," she whispered, "how is it you do this to me?"

"Do what?" Al whispered back after a few moments.

"Oh!" gasped Winry. "I'm sorry to wake you." She leaned back into the couch so she could look into his face.

"God," Al studied Winry's face, and shook his head. "I should marry you so you'd be with me always."

"You should," breathed Winry in agreement. Her eyes softened as she looked into his face. What a pleasant fiction that would make.

"I will," Al said with conviction, and a possessive look in his eyes. "Marry me?" Al tightened his arms around Winry's shoulders.

Winry's eyes bulged. "_Me_? Are you sure about that?" she asked. Al nodded at her question. "_Why_?" she asked totally flabbergasted. What could she possibly offer a marriage but trouble.

* * *

"Hohenheim, look! A letter came from Edward!" Patricia waved the letter at Hohenheim as he entered from the back door for his breakfast.

"Oh good," Hohenheim placed his hat on the island and crossed the kitchen to stand near Patricia.

"I hope he's doing well over there," Mei Chang said from her position at the sink.

Hohenheim nodded. He ripped open the bulging envelope. Several pictures fell out of the folded paper to flutter to the floor. Patricia bent down to retrieve them as he began to read.

_October 15, 2006_

_Dear da,_

_So as you know, I went to Athens at the end of September for a tournament. Holy cow! You should have seen all the people there. It was crazy, packed. All those people watching everything I did. My nerves! Somehow I got it together and I did really well! Guess what! I got GOLD! I can't believe it...me doing well...amazing. Ling says my competition for my weight class was really hard, but I didn't think so. I got a really bad hit to my leg in my third round, but I didn't let it stop me. I had a wicked bruise for about a week and a half. It was really cool. _

"Look at these," Patricia held up the pictures for his inspection. There was Edward and two other boys holding up their medals to the camera, looking very happy.

"That must be Russell," Hohenheim said as he pointed to a tall youth in the next picture. He was bent over Edward and seemed to be grabbing for the medal in Edward's other hand, while Edward tried to keep it out of his grasp.

"Handsome lad," Patricia said, she flipped to the next photo. "What a view," she breathed. The next photo showed a shot from what looked to be a deck, looking down a lush and green valley. "Wonder where this is?" she flipped the photo over looking for any comments that might have been put on the back.

Hohenheim shrugged his shoulder and continued to read his son's letter.

_After the competition was over, we drove to the outskirts of Athens. Russell kindly invited us to stay at his family's 'cabin'. Da...it was NOT a cabin! I mean, they had skylights in the bedrooms, a full bathroom with a jacuzzi tub and marble shower. Cedar walk-in closets! Even the Mustang's would have been at home here. I took a picture of the view so you could see the craziness of it all._

"Looks like that's the view from Russell's cabin," Hohenheim said without looking up from his letter.

"Ooh." Patricia pulled the picture back out and studied it.

_We spent the night drinking to our successes (Leo and Rick—teammates—also got gold). Ling told us a strange story about how, this one time he was doing a demo at a school and he stabbed himself in front of the whole student body (by accident of course). I couldn't believe it. He's so lazy; I wonder how he got to be a martial artist? _

_By the time I finally went to bed I was able to look up through the skylight and see the Milky Way. I think I wanna have skylights in my house someday. What a way to fall asleep! _

_I think that it's not going to be __**so**__ bad to spend Christmas here, rather then go home to see you. If I did, I'd blow my budget for L.A. It's going to be really hard though. This will be our first Christmas apart since...well ever. Make sure you spend it with Patricia, ha ha! _

_Anyway...I got to go. I've included the paper clippings of the tournament, and the poster etc. Hope you like it._

_Love,_

_Edward_

"Hm," Hohenheim handed the letter to Patricia.

"Does he say anything about Winry's wedding?" asked Patricia. When he didn't answer she looked over at him and frowned. "Hohenheim...you _did_ tell him?"

"I couldn't," mumbled Hohenheim as he took a seat at the table, looking very glum about the whole situation.

"Oh dear," Patricia breathed. She took the chair next to him and sat and stared at the letter she had yet to read. "What are you going to do? You can't hide it forever."

"I know. I just don't want to crush him," said Hohenheim sadly. He could almost see how much that news would shatter Edward's fragile world.

"Mr. Elric, you can't stop the tears," Fu said as he brought his coffee over from the counter to the table. "When I come here I was alone."

Hohenheim tried not to blink or roll his eyes as Fu began another one of his stories.

"I was sad that my family was in China while was I here in America. Do you think I wasted my tears on my loneliness? No! I got up and went out to earn money to send home."

Hohenheim frowned slightly at Fu's backwards story. Didn't he just say you can't stop the tears?

"And then I found out that my lovely woman had married someone else, I was crushed. Like Edward will be, but I am strong. Edward will be strong too. I know this." Fu nodded at Hohenheim and pressed his lips. "I know."

Hohenheim allowed himself to blink. Now it made sense...sort of. Fu certainly had a way with story telling. "Thank you, Fu," he said, finally remembering that the gardener was waiting for him to answer. Patricia reached out and took his hand, offering her silent support.

"You must tell him soon, dear," Patricia said softly.

"I know," Hohenheim sighed. It would be the hardest letter he would ever write.

-- To be continued --


	10. Chapter 09

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

(1) – a link to see Al's car is on my profile

(2) – VP's – Vice Presidents

**Chapter 9**

"Al, I'm not so sure about this," confessed Winry, looking worriedly over at him as he drove his black Audi (1) down the back streets of Manhattan without a care for the shabby, desolate condition of the neighborhood. Graffiti marked almost all available surfaces up to as high as the kids who had done the defacing could reach. Dirty, grubby looking people crowded into the darkened corners and doorways, watching the car pass with sharp hungry eyes.

How on earth had she been roped into coming with Al out _this_ way? She didn't like to see how...how...low these people had come, and it made her feel for the first time just _how_ much wealth she had. Of course she did lots of charity work, going to all the big parties and all the 'chic' causes that everyone else was raising money for. But she'd never seen this, nor how bad it could be.

"I know you'll love it. Just give it a chance. Please?" Al looked over briefly at the woman sitting in the passenger seat, pleading with his eyes.

"Stop it," huffed Winry, trying not to smile. Some of her unease seemed to be melting away with Al's teasing, and she turned her gaze away from the disturbing sights outside her window.

"Stop what?" asked Al, curiously while keeping his eyes on the road, a small lop-sided grin tugging at his mouth.

"I don't like it when you do that 'eye thing'," she said, making air quotes as she described Al's expression, and then she pointed at his eyes with a frown. Why did he always have to do that adorable eye thing? Women, she was sure, hadn't been able to resist him for long when he did that 'eye thing'. Not that she begrudged him his past exploits since hers were as vast and varied as his were. It was just that it made her heart melt with fondness for him each time she saw it.

"What 'eye thing'?" Al wondered, glancing at her quickly and then back out the window. The grin became a little bit wider, and Winry could tell he was trying to fight it.

"That thing where you look like a beaten puppy."

Al looked over at the woman sitting next to him and threw his head back and laughed. He released the shifter and fondled Winry's knee, the mirth barely contained. "Well, if it makes you do what I want, I'll have to do the 'beaten puppy' look more often."

"You're terrible," joked Winry, smiling up into his brown eyes.

"Look, here we are." Al pulled into a narrow alley driveway that looked much too small for his car to pass through.

Winry looked out the windshield window at the large old brick and sandstone building, that in its heyday would have been a prime example of art nouveau, with slight trepidation. How on earth had Al talked her into this? It seemed like a good idea at the time but now...

Al parked the car beside a rusty old dumpster, and hurried over to her side of the car to open her door, disrupting her musings. Winry stood from the car seat and stared at her surroundings. The paved court yard was small and there was no room for a garden like how she had imaged there would be. That made her sad to think about, growing up without nature near by was terrible. Al held out his arm for her to take. Adjusting her bag to rest further up on her shoulder, Winry took Al's arm and he led her towards the front doors.

The sandstone steps were in terrible repair, chipped and eroded, making the risers tricky and dangerous to the unwary. The landing at the top of the stairs had debris and old leaves crowding the corners. Winry doubted that the landing had ever seen a broom put to it. The main door was covered with a heavy sheet metal, most likely to reinforce the entrance against unwanted callers who wouldn't want to use the door bell, and just above their heads, pointed down, was a camera.

Winry's heart tightened. How could people want to live like this. She pulled her open autumn jacket around her middle. Were their even places like this anymore? Al pressed a button on the side of the door and waited for a moment before the were let in with a buzz releasing the lock on the door. He held the door open and she walked into the interior of the building.

As soon as the front door closed, they were greeted by a woman in an old tweed skirt and a faded blouse who came striding towards them across the over polished wooden floor. Her hair looked like it was twisted into many braids that were pulled away from her face and gathered at the nape of her neck.

"Dr. Hughes, I'm so glad to see that you had the time to come see the kids," the woman said as she approached, holding her hand out in greeting. Winry noticed that this woman, while quite formidable looking, was wearing clothes that had been washed and repaired too many times. What would have once been a white button-down blouse was now a beige, and her tweed skirt could have come from a really bad moment of insanity, as it looked as if it was from the worst part of the 60's.

"Ms. Curtis, you know I always make time for you and the kids no matter what's going on with my schedule," Al said as he clasped her hand warmly. "This is Winry Mustang. She'll be making the rounds with me today. Is that alright?"

"Of course, please come this way," Ms. Curtis held out her hand, waiting for them to start down the hall.

"Winry, Ms. Izumi Curtis is the director of this orphanage. When I learned about this place I was very eager to help out," Al explained to Winry as they followed behind the director. Winry nodded and glanced around at their surroundings. The paint was chipping off of the walls, adding to the sad tired feel of the place. Why, for only a few hundred thousand dollars this house could be remodeled and made nice again. She could see the makings of a fine house. The structure looked sound.

"Why haven't you invested some money into re-doing this place," she asked quietly as they walked down the hall.

"This whole neighborhood is like this, Winry. If I did that, I'd make them into a target for crime. This way they're able to remain here, doing good, while the rest of the community leaves them alone. Who would want to break into a run down orphanage?"

"Then...just what do you do here? You haven't really said," asked Winry, looking up at Al's profile.

"I suppose you could say I'm half role model, half physician, half older brother." The side of Al's mouth quirked upwards into a smirk.

"It's a good thing you're a doctor and not a mathematician. Three halves don't make a whole." Winry smirked back as Al squeezed her hand on his arm.

"Well you're the one with all the business education that you don't use," Al returned with a smirk.

"I don't have to use it," replied Winry. She was about to elaborate further, but Ms. Curtis stopped in front of a door and turned to face them.

"The children are gathered inside," said the director.

"Thanks Ms. Curtis," said Al, nodded to her. Giving Winry's hand an encouraging squeeze, Al opened the door.

Winry stared in awe at the many children that turned at the door's opening. There had to be almost fifty kids; all eyes were on them. The silence lasted two more seconds until the children recognized who was standing in the door.

"Dr. Al!" cheered the children in unison.

Winry took a step back as they all ran towards them, or Al. She watched as he knelt down and scooped up the kids at the front of the pack. The other children piled up on all sides laughing and talking at once. It was very overwhelming.

"See Winry, this isn't so hard," Al said, laughing from within the mass of piled children.

"Easy for you to say," Winry mumbled, and stepped into the room of squealing, laughing rug rats.

* * *

Roy looked up from the quarterly report to see a very angry Winry standing in his office doorway looking like she might throw something at his head. "What brings you to the office, Winry?" he asked politely. "I wasn't aware that you even knew where it was?" he said, laughing at his own joke. Really though, Winry hadn't been at the office since she was five, so it was very possible that she, being blond—by choice—could have forgotten where it was.

"Oh _please_! I don't think that will work on me," Winry scoffed, her voice dripping with contempt.

"Come again?" asked Roy, puzzled; he let the report fall to his desktop to give his sister a critical eye.

Letting the office door swing close behind her, Winry brandished a newspaper at him. "You're _using_ me! I can't believe you're using me! Where do you get OFF!" Winry yelled. She smacked the paper down in front of Roy, causing some of the reports to flutter to the floor, and glared at him.

Roy frowned up at his sister. There was only so much he was willing to take from her, and she had just crossed that line. "What's got your knickers in a bunch?" growled Roy.

"You're going after Hughes Technologies, and you're using ME to do it!" Winry stabbed the offending article, her glare never once leaving Roy's.

Her eyes challenged him to deny it, but why would he. He _was_ using her. Roy looked down at the Wall Street Times paper and saw a small article with the headline 'Mustang Inc. buying stock in Hughes Technologies'. He cursed silently to himself, since when did Winry read the financial section of anything.

"Sir, is there anything I can help you with?" Roy's personal assistant, Alex Armstrong, asked. His impressive physique filled the doorway. At Roy's command he would 'escort' his sister out of his office and prevent her return.

Roy pressed his lips, and looked back at his sister. At his glare she took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk. "No, thank you, Alex." With a nod, Alex closed the door, leaving Roy to handle this on his own. As soon as the door was closed, Roy reached into his desk and pulled out a gun.

"Oh my GOD! I'm sorry, Roy, I won't—"

Roy ignored his sister and aimed at a flat screen television, squeezing off a few pellet shots.

"Holy..." whispered Winry, clutching at her chest in shock.

"Look at this!" Roy placed the pellet gun on the desk and walked over to the screen. "Not a scratch. It's the best, strongest plastic out there. The applications...aerospace, military, even the private sector. This merger will have far reaching effects, and we're the best company to take it to the next step, but the competition is fierce. The fact that you're engaged to the son of the company is a huge bonus for us—"

"Now wait a minute, you're using me for you're own gain. I resent that. This is my life you know!" Winry sat forward on the edge of the chair.

"I resent it too! My life makes your life possible. It's not like you help out here. If you marry Al, I'll call us even," bargained Roy. He recalled the many heated fights he had with her about her lack of involvement with running the company, not that Roy minded too much, but it would have been nice to share the work load once and a while.

"Bringing that up again... Roy...I mean...I don't know if I can do this...like, who would want to marry _me_?" Winry ran a hand along her pony tail, and brought her hair over her shoulder to fiddle with the ends. She ran the hair across her knuckles and stared at the floor.

"Are you kidding me?" Roy walked back around his desk and resumed his seat. "Winry, you are a smart, beautiful, quick witted, over educated, young woman. He's lucky to have you."

"But see, doesn't that make you wonder?" asked Winry, leaning on her side of the desk. "He can't be right in the head if he wants me, right?" She tapped her temple and sighed. "And how am I going to take care of a husband? I couldn't care for the rabbit I had as a kid, how do I take care of him?"

"Winry, he's rich too, he can take care of himself." Roy sighed. This was so annoying, and he had work to get back too. "Winry...I know how much you care for him. You did have me lie for you after all. When have you ever asked me to do that?"

"True...but still--"

"And I heard you went to an orphanage with him. When has anyone _ever_ gotten you to do charity work when the paparazzi wasn't involved," said Roy. He ran his hand through his black hair.

"True..." Winry nodded.

"And Pinako told me how you didn't jump into bed until a month after meeting him, you've _never_ done that."

"Yeah, true." Winry smiled as she remembered their first time. It had been worth the wait.

Roy fell silent as he watched his sister. She had gone all dreamy eyed as she often did when she seemed to be thinking about her future husband. Roy swallowed. It seemed that his thoughts about a soul mate and his lack of a partner from the other night, had, and would continue, to haunt him. He pushed the brief stab of pain away, squashing it. His life was the company; he had made his peace with that. "Now, if you done..."

"Yeah, sorry to barge in on you...thanks, Roy," Winry said as she stood.

Roy walked around the desk and escorted Winry to the door. "Okay. See ya later," said Roy. She smiled at him before turning towards the elevators.

Crisis averted. Roy shook his head and threw a pained look at Alex before retreating into his office again. He could only hope that nothing else would happen to sway his sister before the deal closed.

* * *

The cold, bitter wind rattled the windowpanes in Edward's apartment. Snow had begun to fall shortly after coming home from work and it promised to be a terrible storm. For now though, it was falling in large, fat flakes, piling up in heavenly looking drifts of snow. He was just glad that he got home before it really hit. Maybe it would shut down the city and he could take a tomorrow off.

Edward let the curtain fall back over the window and walked back to the couch. Finally his training schedule had let up and now he was only training hard on the weekends. During the week he would attend a one hour class and head home. Last night, on his way out Ling had stopped him.

"Edward, I want you to have a look at this," Ling had said holding out a CD case, as Edward pulled on his sweater.

"What's this?" he'd asked taking the case and looking through the cover.

"It's a DVD I made of some of the fighters from the last worlds, and since you've gone up a few weight classes lately, I want you to pay special attention to the last fighter. You might have to deal with him."

"Okay," Edward said, tucking the disk into his bag.

Edward popped the DVD out of the case and inserted it into his laptop sitting on the coffee table. Making himself comfortable on the floor he watched through all four hours of tape until the last fighter came on.

He was a well muscled, dark skinned man with white hair. The camera focused on him, and Edward could tell he was glaring at the camera holder even though his eyes were covered by dark sunglasses. He wore loose, baggy pants with white trim going down one leg. Half way down, the trim slashed across his knee. Edward was a little confused as to why he didn't have on his martial arts top, but he shrugged it off. Maybe it was so he could show off the large tribal tattoo going down his right arm.

As he approached the camera Edward's focus was drawn to the man's face. He had a large 'X' type scar across his forehead traveling down to either side of his cheeks. The camera was jostled and the picture was hard to make out for a minute as the camera man took up a better position to see the match. When the picture stilled, the dark, scared man was facing his opponent.

The referee seemed to be taking offense to the scarred man's attire for the match and was arguing with the judges. They all shook their heads and the referee walked to the center of the ring. He motioned the fighters to stand on the center of the mat. The scarred man didn't even bother to take his sunglasses off as he took up his position. Edward could feel the weight of the glare he was giving to his opponent and he got nervous about having that glare directed at him.

The referee started the match and stood back. The other fighter circled the dark man, but he didn't move. He didn't even turn to watch as he was out flanked. Edward saw the opponent's first mistake, over confidence. The other fighter shook his head and struck out with a fast kick to the back of the scared man's knees. Almost too quick for the eyes, the scarred man leapt up into the air and whipped his leg out behind him catching the other fighter full in the face with his bare heal.

Edward groaned in sympathy as the other fighter staggered backwards towards the edge of the mats. The referee came forward and paused the clock. Edward watched the scarred man's disinterest as the other fighter's ability to continue the match was assessed. Finally the match restarted and the scarred man turned to face the other fighter again. This time the scarred man struck first. He reached out with his bear-like right hand and gripped the other fighter's face. Pulling back a little, he proceeded to throw his opponent viciously to the floor.

The other guy got up fast and began to search for an opening. Feeling time running out, his opponent rushed in throwing everything he had. Lighting fast punch combos mixed in with beautiful kicks to all points of the body. It seemed to be working. The scarred man was retreating from the onslaught. Edward gripped the table edge making his knuckles turn white; he _knew_ that the scarred man was playing with his opponent.

There had to be about thirty seconds left in the match now. If the scarred man was going to strike he should do it soon. Edward could feel his heart pounding within his chest.

The scarred man finally acted. He rushed forward slipping past his opponent's guard. The other fighter started and looked up wide eyed into the sunglasses. Edward could see how the man tried to process this and failed. The scarred man threw four cruel upper cuts into the solar plexus of his opponent, cutting off his air. Then he took a step back and spinning on the ball of his foot, he lashed out with a hook kick to the side of his face, sending him flying into the crowd lining the mats.

The camera tilted then and cut off. Edward stared blankly at his computer screen. He hadn't yet been able to achieve that kind of power, and quickness didn't seem to be of any use against that guy. Gnawing on his thumb nail, his mind raced with strategies on how to defeat an opponent such as him. The only thing he could think of would be to stay in a lower weight class, but with the way he was building muscle tone that might be hard to do. He had already had to go out and buy new clothes twice as his old ones became too tight and constrictive.

Sighing, Edward zipped back through the fight and prepared to watch it again; hoping for some sort of inspiration on what he could do if he had to face this man at the world tournament.

* * *

Roy sighed. He was exhausted from his long day on the phone with his overseas vice presidents. They just could not get along, and they were costing him money. He should just let them go and promote someone who would get their act together...and now he had to head over to the Hughes' place for dinner with them. Winry and Pinako would already be there; most likely perturbed at him for being late.

Sighing once more, Roy allowed his eyes to close, and was lulled by the motion of the car. Blinking his eyes open, Roy sat up trying to shake off the sudden desire to sleep.

"Hohenheim, talk to me before I pass out. How is Edward doing in Paris?" Roy rubbed his eyes in an effort to banish his slothful nature.

"He's making due, sir," said Hohenheim from the front seat.

"Coming home for Christmas?" Roy wondered aloud, looking at the back of his driver's head.

"'Fraid not, sir. He's begun to training to compete in a world tournament being held next year. If he came home he wouldn't have the funds to travel to San Francisco."

"That's rough." Roy frowned. From what he knew of Hohenheim and his son, this would be the first time apart for the holidays, and for some reason he felt compelled to offer them a way to spend the time together. "Do you want me to—"

"Begging your pardon, sir, but I don't think you should. Edward needs to be on his own." Hohenheim looked at Roy from within the rear view mirror.

"How about you go—" Roy tried again. Why was he being so generous, and insisting. This wasn't like him. If he got a no, he'd leave it at that, but it seemed that he was pushing. It didn't make sense, and he was too tired to analyze himself.

"I couldn't possibly leave you and your mother to drive yourselves. Please sir, it's all been settled, Edward's fine with this."

"Well, I have to say, I'll miss not having him around, even though he avoids me like the plague." Roy glanced out the car window. It was a polite thing to say, but he couldn't honestly say that he'd be sorry that the sulking teen was going to be absent this year. "Do you know why he doesn't like me?" asked Roy, curiosity getting the better of him. He looked at the back of Hohenheim's head.

"I can't say, sir, he's never confided with me about his thoughts about you."

"Hnm." Roy looked back out the window. He idly watched the tall buildings turn into beautiful houses before finally remembering something Hohenheim had said. "What's this about a world tournament?"

"Ah, it seems that Edward was discovered. He's a natural fighter that's being groomed to compete. He was recently in a tournament in Greece and got gold for his weight class."

Roy's eyes widened. "A fighter?" That skinny kid? That clumsy, skinny kid was going to do that! "Phew, that's brave. You must be very proud," said Roy in his most personable voice, never letting on that it sounded absolutely ludicrous to him.

"Yes, sir, I am," Hohenheim gushed, and then remembered himself and sobered up. "We're here." He pulled the car to a slow stop in front of a large stone house.

Smoothing his dark hair and straightening his tie, Roy got out of the vehicle as soon as Hohenheim opened the door. Shaking his long autumn weather trench coat closer around his body, Roy climbed the steps and rang the bell, and was promptly admitted inside. With his jacket whisked away, he was led into the drawing room, where his mother, sister, and her fiancé were talking with Maes and Gracia Hughes.

"Roy, about time you got here," Maes said, grinning from ear to ear. His graying, slicked back hair shone in the lamp light. He held up a glass of scotch and raised an eyebrow.

Silently refusing the offered drink, Roy put his hand in his pant pocket. "I'm sorry, things got crazy."

"Not at all, not at all. It's good to see you working so hard at making us rich," said Maes. He crossed the room and threw an arm around Roy's shoulders. "You're almost family after all."

"I think supper's ready now, should we head over?" Gracia interrupted smoothly.

Roy let his mouth close. He was quite content to let whatever Maes said slide. Rocking the boat would just force Maes to look else where for a partnership. After all the time he had already put into to this merger, he wanted something to show for it.

He followed behind his own family as they made their way to the dinning room across the hall.

"Roy, dear, you look positively exhausted," Pinako murmured, falling behind in order to talk with him. "What happened?"

"Nothing, just the usual rubbish from India." Roy put his other hand into his pants pockets as well, allowing his shoulders to droop. "What do you think about letting the VP's (1) go?"

"I think that's fine. In fact, you could have their positions taken over by our interests in Europe."

"Saves on salary and bonuses. Then it's done," agreed Roy, nodding his head. "I won't be staying late tonight." He had no problem firing someone so close to the holidays. Of course he would offer a healthy severance package, but the benefit to the bottom line would make the stockholders very happy.

"Of course," agreed Pinako.

* * *

The meal was, of course, fantastic. Winry could find no fault, and she was looking too. The dishes were exquisite; the cutlery was polished and immaculate. The almost too large flower center piece was beautiful, and blocked her view of her brother and mother sitting across from her and Al. Mr. and Mrs. Hughes were sitting at the table ends, chatting it up with Roy.

"Have you seen Al's baby pictures yet, Roy? Here let me show you," said Maes with a manic sort of grin stretching across his face. Winry looked over in time to see Maes pull a leather bound photo album from seemingly nowhere and pass it down the table under Roy's nose.

As Maes began to explain each photo and what was happening in detail, Winry remembered when she had gotten the same treatment. It had almost made her break it off then and there, but somehow an embarrassed glance from Al as he sat in the couch across from her made her keep her seat.

Al leaned into her from his seat beside her and nudged her shoulder with his own. "Something on your mind, sexy?" Al murmured into her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

"No, honey. I'm fine," lied Winry. The truth was she was about to have a serious attack of cold feet. Each innocent comment about the approaching wedding, the parties, or the guest list, made her increasingly edgy. Every comment had her almost jumping from her seat to make a break for the door. She really wanted to run away and call the whole thing off. She honestly had no idea what was keeping her in her chair right now. She reached out and brought the wine glass up to her lips to take a large sip.

"Winry? Have you thought any more about where you want to get married? Church or maybe outdoors. I've always wanted to get married outdoors--Honey, what do you say we renew our vows and do it outside?" Maes asked, gazing down the table at his wife. Although to do so he had to lean to the side to see around the flowers in the center of the table.

"Oh! I know, why don't we make it a double wedding," said Gracia, her voice full of the wonder and joy that idea caused.

Winry's eyes bugged out, and she choked on her mouthful of wine. A double wedding...with the parents! She began to cough into her hand with the horror of it. Oh, god. What if they were serious! The humiliation of standing at the alter with Al's mom... Her girlfriends wouldn't ever let her live that one down.

"Mom," warned Al.

"Okay, fine! You're such a party pooper, Al." Gracia pouted a moment before smiling at her son. "Ooh, I'm so happy for you two. My son, married."

"Not quite yet, mom," laughed Al, throwing a glance at Winry, which made her look away quickly.

Winry tried to smile. _Marriage_? What the hell was she thinking? Never to have sex with someone other then her soon-to-be husband...well, it was _good_ sex...but still! Now she wouldn't have the option. Roy was staring at her funny from around the center piece. The merest lift of her eyebrow and he came to her rescue.

"Gracia, I noticed on my way in your wonderful collection of paintings. Who's the artist, I don't recognize the work," asked Roy, leaning towards her to draw her attention away from Winry.

"Oh! Do you like it? It's from an artist—"

Winry slowly tuned out the conversation and let the tension ebb from her body. She had been so close to jumping from her seat and running for the door. Reaching across her plate she lifted the wine glass and sipped at the red liquid. God, she loved Roy. Always able to come to her rescue whenever she needed help or someone to talk to.

Maybe she would wake up soon and this would all be a dream, because she really couldn't believe this was happening to her at all.

-- To be continued --


	11. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

**Beware the time skips in this chapter**...make sure you pay attention to the references to the time line or else you might be confused. If you ignore this warning, I won't take the time to explain it to you afterwards...enjoy and review XD

(1) – Go to my profile to find a link to see what Winry's car looks like.

**Chapter 10**

The snow began to fall almost as soon as Edward left his apartment. One of those nice 'soft snow's. The gentle, fat flakes were falling almost straight down with no wind to interrupt their chosen course to earth. Each addition to the previously fallen snow, made the landscape change once more, into a softer, kinder version of itself. Sticking out his tongue, he tried to catch one of the randomly falling flakes, and smiled as one fell on his tongue, tasting of cold and winter. As nice as this snow was, he was more then ready for spring.

Pulling his black winter jacket closer to his body, Ed set out to meet Russell and Fletcher at the train station. He wondered if Riza was going to be there, and how Russell would react to that. Things seemed to be progressing pretty hot and heavy between those two. Russell claimed to be all right with it, and Edward supposed that it _seemed_ like he was...

Gripping the hand rail as he descended underground, Edward pulled off his glove and fished his wallet from his back pocket. Pulling out his metro pass, Edward swiped it through the reader and proceeded through the turn stile. The train was just pulling in as he stepped down to the platform. Strolling into the nearest car, Edward held onto the pole and sighed.

The letter he had gotten from his father today...it was a bit of a shock. A painful shock. Winry was getting married in the spring of 2008. Some Christmas present, thanks da... He almost called up Russell right then to cancel this little outing in order to nurse his breaking heart. He really didn't feel like being out in the public eye right now, but he had promised so long ago to go... He was used to hiding his feelings—he'd done it for years. Russell would never know the difference, and now he had nothing holding him back from sleeping with him, so then why did he feel like shit when he thought about it.

Lifting his head, Edward saw that he had two more stops before he reached the downtown core. Pushing aside all his conflicting emotions, he started to build up his mask until it was a flawless masterpiece of denial. By the time he had arrived at his stop, he was a cheerful young man again. He stepped off the train and crossed the platform to the stairs. Russell, Fletcher, and Riza were waiting for him at the entrance to the train station. Waving, he jogged the remaining distance and prepared himself for a long night.

* * *

Edward grunted as his back hit the wall behind him. He pulled at the body invading his personal space and then shoved it away only to attack it fiercely before it could find its footing again. He laced his fingers around the neck of his attacker and pulled it close to his face. His mouth came down hard on the other's lips, stealing the breath that wasn't there to begin with. Their tongues warred with each other, both looking for the upper hand that neither one wanted to give.

A rough hand worked its way under Edward's shirt, clawing into the flesh on his lower back. Edward moved forwards to press his body more firmly into the man in front of him. Another hand worked its way down to grip his ass and ground their erections together. Breaking the kiss, he threw his head back to moan his desire into the dark apartment.

"Edward...I wouldn't have ever thought that you would be _this_ aggressive," Russell breathed, and ground his pelvis once more into the supple teenager.

With a flash of gold in the low light, Edward gripped onto Russell's shirt front, forcing him backwards towards the couch. Halfway there he decided that it was too far, and stuck his foot out and tripped Russell heavily to the floor. Landing on top of the taller man, Edward promptly attacked those swollen lips.

Breaking the kiss, Edward knelt on the floor, straddling Russell's pelvis. Tugging Russell's shirt out of his pants, he pushed the material up around the other man's throat, and leaned forward to claim a dark nipple. Teasing the small nub into erectness, Edward pulled the nipple in between his teeth, steadily squeezing his teeth together.

Russell groaned and worked his hands up and down the length of Edward's thighs, and then his back. Unable to take the assault anymore, Russell rolled them so that he was now on top. He was about to lean forward to ravish Edward's mouth again, but he stopped. It was like all the fight and desire had drained out of Edward.

Russell studied the prostrate form below him. There was a look on Edward's face that he had never seen before, full of sadness and weariness, but he had been so animated at supper tonight...too animated. He frowned at the man under him. Edward had never refused him like this. Reaching out to touch Edward's face caused those reflective eyes to focus on his hand and he stopped midway.

Edward let his head fall to the side, no longer able to meet Russell's gaze; denying Russell's questioning gesture. He released a ragged breath and could feel the pain from the shock of the letter coalesce in his throat. Of all the times for his da to finally tell him about Winry...

"Edward..." whispered Russell. He leaned forward and brushed at the long bangs covering the small blond's ear. "What is it? I want to help..."

"Russell..." choked Edward. He winched at his pain roughened voice. He thought that he had become stronger than this. Hadn't he worked hard for last six months for that very purpose? Wasn't he becoming more open and outgoing? Did he not excel in the martial arts? Gaining the equivalent of a black belt in such a short time. What the hell was it all for? The prize was now taken.

It seemed natural to throw himself at Russell now that he was free, but his heart wasn't in it, and neither was his body. He was only going through the motions, trying to drown his sorrow in sex; which apparently, didn't work very well since they had never gone beyond heavy petting and mutual masturbation.

Leaning on his elbows, Russell stroked Edward's face. "Edward, I'm here for you, but you're so far away. Do you want to talk about it?"

Closing his eyes, Edward weighed how telling Russell about Winry's wedding would affect his friend. Ultimately, he decided against divulging that.

"Okay, I won't push," Russell whispered once the silence stretched out. Rolling to the side, he pulled the smaller blond towards his chest, and with his head propped up by his hand, studied the young man who wouldn't meet his eyes.

After several minutes, Edward rolled his head back to look into Russell's searching face. Oh, how he wanted to bury his face into the other man's neck and be comforted, but that would send the wrong signal. He closed his eyes as Russell reached out to stoke his cheek and sighed. He couldn't do this anymore...it was too cruel to Russell, he knew that now.

"Are you going to dump me?" Russell asked. His voice was carefully neutral. He knew that someday they'd break up when Edward headed back home, but he had hoped to spend more _together_ time with the man. The too quick flicker of burnished gold confirmed for him that Edward would indeed be ending this.

"I'm sorry..." Edward whispered, almost too low to be heard. "I...I just can't...be...what you want from me."

"I understand." Russell looked across the room to stare at nothing. "Edward...I've noticed...that you seem far away whenever I try to be close to you...is it because of that?"

'That' being the fact that he was currently seeing a man when he still carried a torch for a woman who didn't even know he was alive. Edward let his gaze fall to the hollow in Russell's neck. "Yes..." he breathed in answer.

"What you want to fix, won't happen here." Russell lifted his free hand and gestured around the room vaguely. "It'll happen here." Russell brought his hand back and placed it gently over Edward's heart. "Winry will get married and leave you behind, you have to find peace."

Snapping his gaze back up to Russell's, Edward wondered how he found out about that.

"There have been rumors in the papers for a while now...you never did work on reading French as much as you should have," Russell explained. Pushing himself into a setting position, he worked his feet under him and stood. Reaching down to the prone boy watching him from the floor, he pulled Edward to his feet. "I should go. Still friends?"

Edward couldn't bring himself to meet Russell's questioning look, and nodded at the floor. He felt a hand land on his shoulder for a moment and then Russell turned away. He couldn't bring himself to watch him leave either. As soon as he heard the door close, he forced his feet to move towards his bedroom, where he collapsed face down on the bed. All his conflicting emotions from earlier in the day were gone, and he was left strangely blank. His eyes fell on a patch of lamp light from the street. He stared at it unseeing and slowly his eyes closed as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

"Not that I'm complaining, but what has gotten into you?" Ling let the air shield rest on the floor as he studied his prodigy.

Heaving a huge breath, Edward wiped at his brow with the sleeve of his martial arts uniform. "I just want to be ready. Come on, I can do some more drills." Edward motioned for Ling to hold up the air shield.

"Edward, I think you're pushing yourself too hard." At Edward's glare, Ling hastened to add, "Let's take a water break, for five minutes before continuing, okay?" Ling let the shield rest on the floor and he moved away to retrieve his water.

Edward pressed his lips, but moved towards his bag. Sitting on the floor, he pulled the top of his bottle up and shot a stream of water into his mouth. Leo and Rick were lounging on the far wall, watching him warily. They had stopped thirty minutes ago. Letting his gaze slide away, Edward rested his head into the wall and allowed his eyes to close.

Hearing a rustle of material, Edward kept his eyes closed as the spot beside him was occupied. He neither acknowledged nor ignored.

"Edward, what's bothering you?" Ling's voice asked quietly, denying Leo and Rick the ability to listen in.

"Nothing," Edward stated flatly. He cracked an eye and glanced sidelong at his instructor. Before he had received that letter he would never had dreamed of speaking in such manner to Ling. He was different now, he was stronger, and he had formed a hard center.

Ling raised an elegantly curved eyebrow at him in surprise.

"I'm outta here," Edward informed the room coldly. He threw his water bottle back into his bag and stood. He could feel three pairs of eyes watching him as he walked across the gym to put his boots on, and snatched his jacket off the peg by the door. He shoved his hands down the arms of his jacket and was out the door with out a backward glance.

The dry cold wind pulled at his braid and worked its way under his uniform, but Edward made no move to close his jacket or to hurry his tired pace. The night was made yellow by the street lamps lining the road; pockets of harsh light that made the compacted snow look dirty. He hadn't spoken to Russell for a week. He just couldn't face him yet. They had talked a little over the phone, but it was strained for Edward, so he hadn't bothered since. He just needed to sort things out on his own.

* * *

The trees were just starting to push forth the new delicate leaves in order to soak up the brilliant spring sunshine, as Edward walked beneath them. Glancing up into the twisted branches, he could pick out the daily changes going on around him—almost hourly. This time next year, Winry would be getting ready to be married, he'd be home, soon to be off again for the worlds.

Edward continued around the park, making his usual circuit before he would head out and down along the river, notebook in hand. He had started a journal shortly after his break up with Russell four months ago. One day he had found himself outside after getting fed up with hiding inside his apartment, and sick of being depressed. In his wanderings that day, he found himself wanting to record his thoughts as a way to sort out his tumbled mind, and found out that he really enjoyed the process. Everyday, rain or shine, he faithfully walked along the river front and through the park before making his way to his favorite spot to put his every thought into words in the blank pages of his note book.

Russell and he had come to an understanding about two months ago. They could now hang out again and go out to eat at his favorite deli. He was glad that Russell had been understanding enough to have given him time to come around rather then force the issue. Edward could now be around him without feeling uncomfortable or awkward. It had been lonely without his first friend around, but Ed needed to sort through his emotions from the news of Winry's wedding first before he could turn his attention to his feelings for Russell.

He could now see that he hadn't been comfortable in his own skin, but through his journal writing, he was starting to feel more 'whole' as he put to paper his past, his musings, his feelings...anything that he thought of went into that journal. He was even making peace with his un-reciprocated feeling towards Winry. Although, there were times, like when he was walking on this sunny day, that he wondered what she was up to at this very moment.

But his love for her seemed to be fading. It _had_ to fade. He couldn't go on like this. It was slowly eating away at his soul. Someone out there was waiting for him, and that someone would be everything Winry wasn't. Now...how the hell would he find this person?

* * *

Roy strode through the house towards the back lawn looking for Pinako. He had to bring her up to date on the crisis currently taking place at the construction site of the new office tower for the Mustang-Hughes merger. Somehow the project mangers couldn't get their act together and decide how to deal with it on their own, so they called up Roy early on Saturday morning.

When he arrived at the site, slightly peeved at having been pulled out of bed for this, he found that construction had come to a stop. A few choice words got things back on track, but the underlying problem remained. Which was why he needed to get together with Pinako and discuss strategy with her.

The back lawn was a jumble of scurrying people staging the area for this evening's party; Winry's official engagement party. The Hugheses had insisted on having it at the Mustangs' saying that they had a much nicer lawn then they did. Roy stepped out onto the porch and scanned the chaos for his missing mother. He could think of better ways he could be spending his time rather than holding Maes' hand through this merger. The man seemed to delight in making him jump through hoops for his amusement.

"Roy, I'm surprised to see you here so early," said Winry, standing from her chair and alerting her brother to her presence.

"The joy's of being a CEO. I'm always on call for the 'big' problems," said Roy sardonically. Winry smiled, unapologetic for the fact that she didn't know what Roy had to deal with on a regular, daily basis.

"What do you make of all this?" She waved a hand holding a crystal glass full of scotch.

"I think it's great, what do _you_ think about it?" asked Roy, moving to stand by his sister as they watched the chaos. He shoved one hand into his pants pocket and took the drink from Winry to sip at its contents before handing it back.

"I'm thinking about moving to a monastery," Winry deadpanned. She took a sip of her drink and surveyed the transforming lawn.

Chuckling, Roy looked down at Winry's relaxed stance. It didn't seem like she would really do something that drastic. "I'm really proud of you, you know," Roy said and threw an arm around Winry's shoulders pulling her into a quick embrace.

"It'll be you next," smiled Winry, blushing from the complement.

"I highly doubt that," Roy joked back. _I would have to be seeing someone first_, he finished in his head. Letting his arm drop, he put his other free hand in his pants pocket as well. "Have you seen Pinako?"

"She had to go to town for some sort of special linens for the tables," Winry said, waving her hand vaguely.

Nodding, Roy continued to watch the progress for a moment more before asking, "So, where's Al?"

"He got called back to the office, some emergency board meeting or something," said Winry, rolling her eyes and then smiling at Roy. "He said he'll be back in time for the party, tonight... So...how is the market treating us now that Virgin Mobile is now officially a part of the flock?" inquired Winry before taking a sip of her drink.

Roy looked over in shock. This _was_ Winry, right? The very same woman who had taken a very expensive business degree, gotten thousands of dollars worth of the best education the country had to offer, and then turned her back on that and the company! The same Winry, who Roy suspected of never reading any of the daily reports that their mother slipped to her to keep her appraised of how the company's bottom line was doing?

"I love it when you talk dirty," Roy husked throwing his arm back around his sister's shoulders and giving her a sultry look.

"Oh, stop," laughed Winry, pushing Roy away. Roy chuckled happily and let himself be pushed away.

"Listen, if Pinako shows up anytime soon, send her my way, won't you? I'll be in the office." Roy patted Winry's shoulder and turned, walking back into the house.

* * *

May 24, 2008

Dear Da,

I'm writing to you from my favorite café just around the corner from my apartment. I often came here for my breakfast on the weekends. They have the best chocolate bread, and if I could get here early enough, it would just come out of the oven, and be all warm and melty. It's great, they have wonderful little tables just outside the front door. I always sit near the edge of the sidewalk so that I can see all the people walking by.

I'll probably be home before this gets to you, as my plane leaves tomorrow. I'm taking an earlier flight then planned just so I can surprise you. I got all sorts of neat things that I picked up during my two years here. A lot of it is for you and the girls. I got this really nice scarf for Patricia, but don't tell her!

The only bad news I have is that there seems to be some uncertainty if my plane ticket will be good. The carrier keeps changing its mind, one way or the other. Yes, they're still operating, now they're not. The papers are speculating that they'll go bankrupt. If that happens I won't be able to get my money back, most likely. I don't know what I'll do about it. Either way Ling, Rick and Leo will be headed to L.A., with or without me (they chose a different airline). That kinda sucks. I'll be sure to talk to you about this, since you said that if I came up short, you'd see about helping me make the difference. Don't worry about it if you can't, it's no big deal.

So now I'm just going to head out to visit all my old haunts one last time. I really love it here. Although I miss everyone back home, I think I'll always think of Paris as my real home, the place I come back too. I wish you could have come to visit while I was here; there are so many things I wanted to share with you.

I better wrap this up; I got a few more stops before I head home to finish up my packing. Don't worry about picking me up; I'm going to find my own way home.

Love,

Edward.

* * *

"Roy," Pinako called, letting her voice carry throughout the vast house.

"In here, mother," Roy called back. Roy could hear Pinako's pumps click across the wood floor as she crossed over to his office. Maes was baulking on some of the merger points. Really, the man was just trying to get Roy to jump through hoops for his amusement, he was sure.

"Roy, do you know where Winry's gotten off too?" Pinako asked once she had entered Roy's office.

Roy looked up as his mother strode into his office, and over to the window. He had taken to staying close to home as the wedding drew nearer for just this reason. After one day of constant calls from his mother, he'd had enough. Pinako was bombarding him with tasks to do beyond his work, and he just found it easier if he was here rather then at the office in the city.

"She went to town to pick up your birthday present, she was having it wrapped," answered Roy looking back down at the papers scattered across his old mahogany desk. What did the size of the bathrooms on the 12th floor have to do with the merger, that's what Roy wanted to know. It hardly seemed like a valid reason to throw a wrench into the progress they had made so far.

With a sigh, he picked up the blueprints and put them on the edge of the desk. The contractor had FedExed all the particulars to him earlier this afternoon; he lifted the file and began to compare the numbers with what he'd already calculated.

"Oh good, I wonder if I can reach her before she heads back. I need her to pick up my dress from the cleaners." Pinako moved to the other side of Roy's desk and picked up the phone to dial Winry's number.

* * *

"Yes...Okay, I will...yup...when I'm done here...don't worry, I'll pick it up...okay, bye." Winry clicked her cell closed and replaced it back into her purse. She took the large flat package from the clerk and nodded her thanks. Pushing open the door, she walked back out into the sunshine, and placed her sunglasses on her face. She waited for a break in the traffic before jogging across to her car parked somewhat haphazardly over the median.

Looking back at the oncoming traffic, her gaze settled on a man in a dark suit and sunglasses just stepping off the airport shuttle bus a little ways up from her car with a suitcase in hand. Without meaning to, Winry stopped dead in the middle of the street and stared at the vision of manhood in front of her. Starting at his head, with the wonderful, bright honey colored hair that was gathered back into a thick braid reaching down to his mid back, her eyes went down to his face; strong and angular with full, dreamy lips that quirked just so as he noticed her scrutiny. Further down, she drooled over his broad, obviously fit shoulders that filled out that dark suit handsomely, which lead her to the tapered waist and corded legs that the suit couldn't hide even if it wanted too.

A loud annoyed sounding honk from the car in front of Winry broke the spell, making her jump. Waving at the car in apology, Winry hopped up onto the median and placed her package in the back seat of her convertible M5 beamer (1), and openly stared again. It seemed as though her spaghetti strap tank top was really too much clothing, because the temperature seemed to have risen a few degrees in response to this god of men.

"Funny seeing you here. How have you been?" the mystery man asked, his voice pleasantly deep and resonating. He bent slightly and placed his suitcase on the ground.

Winry's breath caught in her throat, and felt her temperature rise again ever so slightly. "Good..." she managed, hesitantly. "And you?" Was this one of her past flings? How on earth did she let this one go? He was...intoxicating. She couldn't peel her eyes from the man's lips as he spoke.

"Very well." The man chuckled and put a hand in his pocket, looking very much at ease. "Are you headed home?"

"Er...yeah," agreed Winry, once more she hesitated. Why couldn't she place who this man was, and how he seemed to know her? They had to have been intimate, she just knew it.

"Well, that's convenient," the vision of very girl's ideal man said, quirking his lips up into a knee-collapsing smile.

"Um...did you...want a lift?" she asked, pointing to her car, not willing to take her eyes off of him. The way he said that, made her think he lived out towards the cape. If so, she should know who this was. She knew everyone, and she really wanted to know. She'd do anything she had to do keep this vision within sight.

"That would be nice," said the man, smiling.

Winry's heart melted right then and there. Unable to take it anymore, she had to know. "Do I know you?" she asked, tilting her head with her confusion. It was rude, of course, to forget and ask him so point blank, but she _had_ to know!

The mystery man smiled enigmatically, and then laughed, his white teeth flashing in the sun. Winry smiled back, somewhat uncertain what her answer was. Motioning to her car, she opened the trunk with a click on her remote key chain, so the man could put his suitcase in the back.

She watched as he bent down, her eyes riveted to the man's body as it bent, and the suit pulled tight along his hips, and legs. The braid slid along his back and fell over his shoulder. She couldn't help the naughty thoughts that flooded her mind. She had never dated a guy with hair that long before; he lifted the case easily, despite how heavy it looked and dropped it in the back, closing the trunk with a soft click.

He climbed into the passenger side and looked up expectantly at Winry who was still standing by her door watching him. Giggling a little at the craziness of the whole scenario, Winry pulled the door open and started up the car. They drove out of town without saying anything more, other then for the man to direct Winry towards the point. Strangely that was where her house was, and once again Winry thought to probe for answers.

"So, I thought I knew all the handsome—eligible?" She looked over at the man, quirking her eyebrow, and he nodded. "—Men around here?" She smiled all the wider knowing that he was single. God, she wished he would take off those sunglasses. She could almost guess that he had the _most_ dreamy eyes.

"I would've said that you knew more men then _just_ around here," the man said, the humor evident in his voice.

"Well, you very obviously know me... You _do_ know me, right?" asked Winry again. The man nodded his head and smiled again, flashing his teeth in his mirth. "So...ah, you're just returning from somewhere?" she asked.

"Yes, I've been away for awhile," said the man cryptically, and didn't elaborate any further then that, leaving Winry to puzzle out what that could mean.

"Um...so you haven't said what your name is," Winry pointed out, trying for the direct approach.

"No, I guess I didn't," the man smiled as Winry glanced over at him.

"OH COM'ON! Are you going to torture me? Give me a hint, I'm dying to know," Winry pleaded. She shifted in her seat so that she could see him easier, but still keep an eye on the road.

"Not on your life, this is too much fun," the man laughed at Winry and the pout she threw his way. "'Sides what would your fiancé say about you flirting with another man?"

If Winry didn't know any better, the man had most definitely looked down her top, and she made it her business to know these things. But she couldn't be one hundred percent sure, since he seemed to refuse to take off his glasses. "I don't know. Want to ask him?" Winry threw back, without thought. "Let's not talk about him, I want to know more about you."

"Oh, really?" the mystery man grinned wider, becoming slightly flushed. He seemed quiet pleased with that comment, making Winry smile. "There's your driveway," the man pointed out.

Winry's mouth dropped. "I was just going to say that—hey! Wanna come in for a drink?"

"That would be nice, thank you." The man inclined his head at her and looked ahead with a small smirk on his face.

Winry pulled into the drive a little too fast and speed down the lane. Halfway to the house, she had to slow down due to the party trucks lining the drive along one side.

"Having a party?" the man asked, looking around at the various catering trucks and party supplies being unloaded.

"Yeah, my mother's birthday is tonight," said Winry. She glanced over and watched the man for a moment before turning her attention back to the front.

The man hummed to himself; a small smile gracing his lips. "The parties here were always so beautiful," the man said wishfully, looking off towards the back lawn and the location of the party.

"Oh, have you been to one? How come I hadn't seen you before then?" asked Winry, truly puzzled now. Maybe it was because of his long hair. Maybe she did know him, and just didn't recognize him at he was now. She frowned as she tried to remember any and all blonds she dated, and still couldn't place who this man was.

"No, I've never been, but I...could see the lights from my window," said the man somewhat hesitantly. Winry glanced over quickly to see the wishful look on his face, but she had to look away in order to attend to her driving.

Parking the car in front of the house, the mystery man opened the door and glanced around at the house. She opened her door and came round the passenger side to stand by the man and continue their conversation. "Oh, well you've got to come tonight then," said Winry, touching his arm briefly.

"I'd like that very much," he said, pulling off his sunglasses finally. The pink was a little bit stronger now as she stood in front of him.

If she wasn't already a puddle of goo over his man, she was as soon as he removed his sunglasses. Those topaz colored eyes flashed with emotion as he looked intently at her. "Can you tell me your name now? The suspense is killing me."

"Winry, Pinako's looking for you," Roy called across the drive as he walked out of the house carrying a tube case under his arm. "She wants you to bring up her dress as soon as you can."

Winry waved him off and continued to wait for the man's answer. She watched the man's eyes dart over to her brother.

"Hello, Edward," greeted Roy, lifting the trunk of the car, placing the black plastic tube inside.

"Edward? Where?" asked Winry, flabbergasted and bewildered. Her eyes widened and she looked the man in front of her up and down. It was true that Edward _did_ have blond hair...

"Have a good time in Paris?" inquired Roy. He straightened up and looked across at his sister and the now grown man beside her.

"You're _Edward_?" She put heavy emphasis on the man's name, in her shock.

"Uh...Yeah...thanks, how are you, Roy?" mumbled Edward, his eyes flickered over to Roy again as he answered, and squirmed under Winry's shocked gaze.

"Edward..." Winry was openly appraising Edward in a new light. Her gaze took in his hair, and new height—almost as tall as her without her heals on—down across the broad chest and tapered waist, and down to his legs and all the way back up. Who would have thought that the shy kid was this _vision_ standing in front of her now?

"Why does she keep saying your name?" asked Roy, frowning at the way his sister was acting.

"Um...I should go...er...say...hi to my da. Thanks for the drive." Edward replaced his sunglasses and moved towards the garage, making a hasty retreat. "I'll pick up my bag later," he called over his shoulder before slipping behind one of the party trucks lining the drive and slipping out of sight.

"Winry!" Roy snapped, making his sister jump and turn to look at him sheepishly. "No!" He recognized that hungry look. It was just before she went and did something stupid that he would have to then pay off someone a handsome amount of money to make sure someone kept their mouths shut.

"I wasn't—"

"No!" Roy reasserted, raising his eyebrows at her in warning. "Hurry up and get Pinako's dress to her before she kills one of the staff," order Roy.

Turning back to the garage, Winry ignored the look Roy was giving her. "I think I forgot it..."

-- To be continued --


	12. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

Thanks to ZaKai for the hard work on this chapter. Without you, it wouldn't be a strong as it is!

(1) CEO – chief executive officer

Whew, this one just kept getting longer and longer...but I hope you don't mind, because to end it early would have made you mad at me I think! But maybe you'll be mad either way... but in a good way maybe?

**Chapter 11**

The main kitchen for the Mustang household was in the throes of barely contained party-induced panic when Edward silently stepped across the threshold. People were moving about the large kitchen, neatly stepping around one another to complete their preparations. A small smile graced his lips as Mei Chang turned around and started to yell at the part-time server, identifiable by his uniform, that dared to get in her way. Patricia swooped down to smooth everyone's ruffled feathers as soon as the confrontation began. No one had noticed his presence yet and for that he was glad. He just needed a moment to take it all in and re-familiarize himself with the location and the people again.

After his cover was blown with Winry, the need to hide under the old willow tree in the back of the garden was very strong, but he successfully fought it off. He took that as a sign that he was showing even _more_ personal growth. He was mortified that Roy had done that to him. Couldn't he have just shut up and let him have that moment? Then again, Roy was never one to be kind to anyone, so why would he be kind to him? Edward shook his head, and dismissed those thoughts as unnecessary.

Instead of heading up to the garage after his escape, Edward had made a bee-line for the kitchen. His desire to see Patricia and melt into her arms was one of the things he was looking forward too most about coming home. His pseudo mother was very dear to him, even if he never could work up the courage to tell her, he felt that she knew anyway. As if his mere thought of the woman alerted her to his presence, Patricia looked up at him.

Taking few cautious towards him, Patricia's hands flew to her mouth and she froze. Unaware of Patricia's shock, Mei Chang continued to berate the hapless server. Edward smiled at the closest thing to a mother he'd ever known. Finally taking off his sunglasses, he strode quickly across the room. As though his sudden movement released Patricia from her paralysis, she also rushed towards his waiting arms. Scooping the woman up and twilling her, he laughed into her warm brown hair.

"Edward! My God!" laughed Patricia. "You look so good!" she exclaimed as Edward put her back on the floor. The chaos around them ground to a halt as the familiar house staff all turned and gathered around the man in the black suit.

"Ed, like, when did you come back? Hohenheim didn't say _any_thing," Mei Chang's voice rose up over the other people all trying to talk at once.

"It's a surprise," chuckled Edward, flushed with the welcome he was getting. Patricia lifted the length of his braid and shook her head. "What? Don't you like it?" he asked, his brow furrowing with worry. Truth be told, he was worried about how people would react to his mid-shoulder length hair. He didn't want to be seen as some sort of hippy. Mid-shoulder length wasn't that long...right? He kept it neat and tidy. It wasn't as though it was a tangled, unwashed mess.

Ever since he'd started going out with Russell, he would comment on how lovely his hair was and run his fingers through it before working it into a braid. He supposed Russell might have influenced his decision to grow it out. It certainly felt nice to have someone comb through his hair. If only for that alone, he wanted to keep it long.

"Oh, it's so...you. I love it." She ran her hand along his arm and then gave him another hug. "I can't get over how much you've grown," said Patricia, stepping back to squeeze his bicep fondly.

"Thanks, I had a bit of a late growth spurt, and I've been working out pretty hard," said Edward, smirking. He flexed his arm to show just how much his training had improved his body. He was really proud at how much he'd changed. He was fit, agile, and now quite happy with his life.

"I can see that," Patricia murmured her eyes widening as the muscle moved under her hand.

"Hey, Ed, like are you going to give us, like, a demonstration of your martial arts? That would be, like, _so_ cool," Mei Chang interrupted again.

"Maybe later, okay?" Edward raised an eyebrow at Patricia, which Mei Chang failed to notice.

"Have you, like, seen Winry yet? Oh, my God, did you know that she's, like, getting married soon?" Mei Chang continued, apparently without registering that Edward had spoke at all. "Did you know, they are like, ruining my kitchen with these party plans? I can't get anything done. They're like, everywhere!"

"Have you eaten yet? Want me to make you something?" Patricia ignored Mei Chang's unceasing flow of conversation.

"Naw, I better go find my da. Is he in his room?" asked Edward, also ignoring Mei Chang's rant, she didn't seem to notice or mind that she was just standing beside them not talking to anyone.

"Yes, you know how he can get around an influx of people."

"Yeah. I got presents for everyone, so I'll be back later." Edward leaned in and placed a kiss on Patricia's cheek.

Leaving the kitchen for the refreshing spring air of the bright May afternoon, Edward took a moment and stopped under the birch tree just outside the house. Pulling off his jacket, he leaned back into the tree and looked up through the branches at the young leaves.

Ah, home. So bittersweet.

* * *

Roy slammed the phone down in frustration. Continuing to work was pointless when everyone around him was clamoring for his attention. Pinako was currently throwing a hissy fit at Winry, yelling at her that she'd forgotten her dress. Even through all the chaos, he could still hear his mother's screech and Winry's answering denial of whatever Pinako had accused her of now, and then he could hear his mother calling for him. Shaking his head, Roy ignored the calls and began to clear his desk of all his papers in preparation for tonight.

Winry was just...Winry, and being a pain. It was completely typical of her to forget the _one_ task asked of her and blow it off without considering how it affects others. Pinako had been badgering him with complaints and questions since seven this morning about anything she could think off. It tested the full limits of his patience to not say some very choice words to her. Maes would not let up about details of the merger, calling him constantly so that Roy couldn't get any work done. Somehow it all had to be brought to Roy's attention for him to deal with. Really, he was not the camp counselor, so why was everyone bringing their troubles to him?

Pushing the chair away from his now cleared desk, Roy stood and walked over to the window, arching his back and making it pop. Standing next to the floor to ceiling windows, he surveyed the emerging party area with disinterest before letting his eyes wander towards the garage. With a little start of surprise, he saw a once familiar person walk out of the kitchen and pause.

Edward... The teenager had certainly changed a lot in two years. Only, he was no longer a teenager anymore, he was a man. He should be about twenty-one, twenty-two...? Right now, Roy couldn't remember when the chauffeur's son's birthday was, and he was usually pretty good with this type of information. It certainly helps to remember your client's wife's birthday, or someone's anniversary.

He watched impassively as the man removed the dark suit jacket and leaned against a tree to stare vaguely off towards the party area. What would it be like to be returning home after so long away? Would he be glad to return here? Could someone like him remain unchanged? There seemed to be a more confident air about Edward now, but that could be an act. He was sure the shy kid who was always falling down and getting hurt was still in there somewhere.

He honestly wouldn't know how he would react in the same situation. He only traveled when the need called for it, and if he could help it, not even then. It was too much like a vacation. He had to work, and work hard for his family. He was the one to take care of them now. He didn't have time to play.

Edward finally pushed off of the tree and flung the jacket carelessly over his shoulder in preparation to leave. Roy turned away, and walked back to his desk. Now was as good a time as any to start getting ready for his mother's party, and it would be the perfect time to show his new plastics around to some of the potential investors arriving tonight.

* * *

Edward dropped an aged bottle of whiskey into his father's waiting hands and smiled. It was the last of a many number of things he had picked up in Paris and during his travels to tournaments for his da.

"Edward, this is too much," Hohenheim said, looking down at the small mountain of items, from a scarf to postcards, stamps and small hard candies, even a few very intriguing books.

"I got more, for everyone," said Edward happily, turning back to his luggage. He started pulling out his clothes and pilling them on the bed. "I hope this will hang up alright..." Edward lifted out a very dark suit and eyed it critically. "I better steam it to be sure."

"What do you need that for?" Hohenheim asked, as Edward disappeared into his bathroom to turn on the shower. "Wait a minute, why do you have a suit?"

Edward cringed. He took his time hanging up his jacket on the shower curtain bar, making sure that all the creases would relax, before he could stall no longer. His father had the patience of an ox and would wait him out until he got his answer. It was his secret weapon to make him behave as a child, and he knew that it would still work on him even now.

Resting his weight on the door frame of the bathroom, Edward regarded his father's watchful appraisal of him. "Da...please. I'm invited," he said, putting all his longing into his plea. He would go no matter what, but he didn't want to have to disobey his father in the process. "I'm finally going to one of the parties. I don't have to watch anymore...please."

"Edward, I don't want you to get hurt," Hohenheim tried to reason with his son.

"I won't...da, please," Edward begged again, he took a step into his room and then stopped, unsure.

Hohenheim took a steadying breath, and closed his eyes. _What would my dearly departed wife have to say about this_, he wondered silently. Most likely to let him fall on his own, now that he was a grown man. He knew that intellectually...but it was so hard to let go of the small child he had brought with him from England all those years ago. He had to watch as his young son withdrew from everyone around him but for a select few. If that were to happen again...

"Da..." Edward crossed the room then, seeing the pain on his father's face, and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not a kid anymore. Pairs did all that you hoped for and more. I'm stronger now, really. Let me prove it."

"Alright, you can go, although I'm sure you would have gone without my permission," Hohenheim looked up into the mischievous grin on Edward's face and knew himself to be right.

* * *

Edward pulled his hair once more through the soft brush, making it shine in the overhead bathroom light. He had debated long and hard with himself about whether he should leave his hair in a braid or let it down. He finally came to a decision to leave it down and gather the last quarter together at the bottom of his length to keep it neat. Although, he was still flopping on that.

Working the clear, invisible elastic around his hair, he took one last look at himself in the mirror. Only his long bangs framed his angular face, while the rest of his hair was pulled back. Although Russell had said he was handsome on numerous occasions while they were together, he never quite believed it was true. But if the way Winry had acted towards him was any indication, it must be true. He'd never seen her act like she did this afternoon if the man wasn't good looking.

Satisfied that he was as ready as he could be under the circumstances, Edward flicked the light off and walked over his bed and shrugged on his jacket, carefully pulling out his hair. He slipped quietly out of the house, not wanting his da to see him leave and throw disapproving glances at him then down to the entrance to the back garden.

Hiding in the shadows, Edward watched the guests mingle, talking and drinking. How long had he watched from that tree? How long had he wished for this very moment to come? Now that it was here, he felt detached and outside himself. It felt like a dream. Edward looked up at the hole in the canopy where he had sat so often to intently watch Winry, and now he was actually going to one of the Mustang's parties.

Scanning the crowd now, Edward spotted Winry talking with a group of people. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her. Her long hair was pulled over her shoulder, and split in two parts and twisted together in a loose braid. A beautiful red, gold clip was fastened at the end. Her dress, an off the shoulder, pale blue, silk number hugged her body in an indecent way. The calf length hem flared and waved in the scant breeze, and her stiletto, sandal heals showed off her manicured toes lovely.

She laughed, at something one of the people in the group said, and looked over at the garage. Her smile widened at the sight of him, she turned and excused herself from the group to cross the distance to meet Edward's immobile from.

"Hey," murmured Winry. She warped her arm though his and leaned into Edward's side.

"You look...stunning," Edward shook his head, and looked appraisingly at the woman at his side, biting his lip. This was a dream, it had to be. It was heady to have Winry this close to him. She was willingly taking his arm. Her touch was like magic. It was everything he thought it would be. He could even smell her shampoo under her perfume.

"And you look...edible," smirked Winry, causing Edward's cheeks to flush. "Shall we go?" At his nod, Winry led the way into the lights and soft ballroom music. They slowly made the circuit around the perimeter of the party before cutting down the middle.

"I don't know if I can do this..." murmured Edward as he looked everywhere at once. Was it just his imagination or was everyone looking at him; giving him questioning looks, and presuming to be with someone like Winry when he was only the chauffeur's son.

"Relax, you're tensing up. Here." Winry pulled Edward to a stop and grabbed a champagne flute off a passing waiter and wrapped Edward's fine, muscled hand around it. "Drink this fast and it won't seem so strange."

Nodding, Edward lifted the glass to his lips and drained it in one go. Winry took the glass from his hands and quickly replaced it with another. He sipped at the pale liquid a little more slowly this time, enjoying the bubbles and the taste. Winry smiled reassuringly at him, and he let himself be pulled even further into the milling guests.

"Winry, can I speak with you a moment?" asked an older man who appeared on Winry's right and pulled her from Edward's side.

"Senator, how's your daughter? Still keeping a tight leash on her? Don't go anywhere!" warned Winry, looking back over her shoulder at him as she was pulled away, and he nodded. Moving away from the tables they had been walking through, Edward strolled towards the dance platform to watch the couples sway to the waltz played by the band.

"Edward," Mei Chang hissed at him, making him turn towards the woman. She smiled at him showing all her teeth. "Shrimp. Forty dollars a pound, fresh from the harbor. Have some." She brandished an ice covered platter at him. Smiling, he took one of the chilled prawns and dipped it into a small container of sauce, before popping into his mouth.

"You look so handsome. It's like, a fairy tale or something, ya know?" Mei Chang grinned widely again. Edward opened his mouth to interject a comment, but the woman continued on. "Look, everyone's watching you. I love your hair like that. It's like, so cool that you let you hair grow out. I wish my hair was blond. Black hair is so blah, you know? Oops, Patricia wants me to move on. Quick, take another. See you around, Edward!"

Edward snatched up another shrimp and then glanced over his shoulder at where Mei Chang had nodded at and saw the whole household staff gathered behind the lattice, waving at him. Smiling at them, he felt Mei Chang brush past him to continue her rounds.

Scanning the party for Winry, Edward drained his champagne glass and placed it on the ledge of the dance floor. He spotted her still talking with the senator by the house. The man looked upset, but Winry seemed to be handling him nicely judging from her body language, which was relaxed. _I could watch her body language all day_, he mused, his eyes roving over her body. She glanced up then, and winked at him. She nodded at few more times at the senator and then excused herself. Grabbing another glass off a passing waiter, Edward averted his eyes, and took a sip from his new glass. He could feel the heat on his cheeks as Winry walked ever closer to him. To HIM!

"Hey, shall we dance?" inquired Winry, wrapping her arm though Edward's.

"Sure..." Edward breathed. He looked through his bangs at her as they walked up the steps to the dance floor. She pulled the glass from his numb fingers and placed it on the banister as they passed. Pulling him to a stop near the middle of the floor, she took a step forward, and placed a hand lightly on Edward's back, making him flush pink under his tan. Ghosting her other hand down his palm, she brought the other hand up to shoulder level. As if he was underwater, Edward slowly placed his other hand on Winry's back and began to move them around the dance floor.

"Do you know, I've been to all your parties? Up there," said Edward, pointing to the tree where he'd watched every single party the Mustangs had ever had.

"Ah, Edward," sighed Winry. "I don't think you know what you've done to me," she said shaking her head a little before closing the distance between them to rest her head on the side of his temple. "You've changed everything."

"I have?" wondered Edward, breathlessly. Winry felt _so_ good in his arms.

"You come back from France; absolutely vibrant and sexy, and swept me off my feet with that fantastic smile of yours," she said, leaning back to look into his eyes. Edward raised his eyebrows at the look Winry was giving him.

"_Did_ I sweep you off your feet?" asked Edward, and then swallowed at the smile that earned him. Winry leaned forward again, her breath tickling the small hairs on his neck. With a small shift, Winry kissed his ear, making Edward falter. She only did that when she wanted to go to the solarium! So...she really did feel like that towards him. His heart pounded under his suit, and his breath came in small breathless pants. Could it be that she loved him too?

* * *

"Pinako, happy birthday, dear," said Gracia as she stopped beside the woman who would soon be part of the family, and smiled before leaning in and placing a kiss on each of the small woman's cheeks. "What a lovely party," she said with a smile.

"Gracia, Maes, so good of you to come." Pinako leaned forward to place a kiss on each of Gracia's cheeks, and gave Maes' hand a squeeze. "Al still in Florida? Some conference, right?" Pinako asked, she motioned for a waiter to come their way, and the couple took a glass of champagne each.

"Yes, that boy works much too hard. Do you know, he wants to open his own hospital?" Gracia said. "Oh, and I was wanting to talk to you about the wedding, do you think a thousand people is too pretentious?"

"That's not a wedding, it's a zoo," murmured Maes before taking sip from his glass. Gracia harrumphed with a small smile and gave Maes a playful swat.

"Well, I think it might be a bit much, dear," Pinako said, sipping from her glass.

"Hey, who's that?" interrupted Maes, pointing at the dance floor. His eyes had been drawn to his future daughter-in-law as she stepped up to the dance platform, her hands entwined with a man with long blond hair smiling like he had just won the lottery. Smiling like he was a cat about to steal some cream.

"Who?" Pinako looked at the crowd, not immediately spotting who Maes was pointing to.

"That man, dancing with _our_ daughter-in-law," Maes pointed at the offending person honing in on his son's territory. The two people were holding each other very close, and he could see the desire in each of their faces.

"Wha—Oh, that's-th-at's—oh my," gasped Pinako and then gave an uneasy chuckle. "Why that's..._Edward_?" Pinako said, shocked at the change in the boy she once knew. She had to do a double take just to make sure she wasn't seeing things. "My God..." she whispered to herself, her eyes going wide with disbelief. "He's like a brother to Winry," she laughed, somewhat stiffly as she watched her daughter, becoming more worried by the second. _Where is Roy? He needs to see to this_, thought Pinako. "They've known each other since they were children."

"I have a brother," Gracia murmured.

"And I've never seen you dance like _that_ with him," growled Maes.

* * *

Striding through the house, Pinako hurried towards Roy's office. He had been holed up inside with various potential investors, trying to generate interest in his new venture since the party started. She knocked quietly and let herself in. Thankfully, Roy was just finishing up with his presentation, and seeing everyone to the door. Pinako motioned to Roy, and she went by the window overlooking the garden to wait for her son. A few moments later and Roy was by her side.

"We got a problem," Pinako said with out preamble. She pointed out the window at party and the couple on the dance floor.

"Shit..." hissed Roy.

* * *

"Let's go somewhere where we can talk," suggested Winry as they swayed across the dance floor, pulling Edward closer, so that he could feel her breast push against his chest suggestively.

"We are talking," said Edward, suddenly afraid of being alone with Winry. He swung them around towards the middle of the dance floor and away from the stairs.

"I know, but somewhere more quiet—"

"Like the solarium?" interrupted Edward. He pulled the woman out of their embrace so he could look at her face and see her reaction. She seemed surprised at that.

"I guess you were paying attention," Winry said with a smile.

"What do you think you're doing, punk!"

Edward turned towards the loud shout, and just caught a glimpse of a man in dark clothing before he was shoved roughly aside. Winry stumbled backwards into a couple dancing near them and gasped. Catching himself on a guest before falling to the ground, Edward stared at his attacker.

The extremely tall man had a head full of white hair and his long thin face was pointed straight at Winry. The man looked quite young despite the fact that his hair had gone white. His bow tie was pulled apart and dangling on either side of his neck and he was swaying dangerously.

"Hey!" yelled Edward, not liking the way he was slowly advancing on Winry one bit. Pushing away from the man he had fallen on, he jumped in front of the drunken guest and blocked his view of Winry. He scowled at the man, silently daring him to start something.

"This isn't really the place for that. How about we call you a cab home?" suggested Edward. In all his time spent watching the parties no one had ever caused a ruckus, crashed it, or been able to sneak in. He felt bad that this man was embarrassing himself like this.

"Bastard, she's mine," the man slurred. "Look I got pictures." He reached into a over large pocket and pulled out a bunch of torn magazine pictures and threw them on the floor in front of Edward's feet.

Looking up from the pile, Edward narrowed his eyes at the man. He sensed the crowd being pushed aside and someone coming forward onto the dance floor behind him, but he didn't feel comfortable taking his eyes of off this guy. He only hoped that someone had the presence of mind to get Winry the hell out of here.

"Hey! Where you going?" The man stumbled forward, and Edward's hand shot out, pushing the man back with a hard shove to his chest.

Grimacing at the fact that he had to touch the man's clothes, Edward glared. He lifted his hand which had become wet from the man's chest and smelled alcohol. "Hey, man, you don't want to do that."

"Why? You gonna...tickle me?" The man threw his head back and laughed derisively, drawing every one of the guest's attention now.

"Leave now," ordered Edward. Inside, he was strangely calm and relaxed. All his training left him confident and sure of his abilities. Although, he knew that he couldn't strike out against the guy, no matter what he did. His goal was to subdue. The drunken guest looked Edward up and down and laughed again; a harsh sounding, barking kind of laugh. Quick as silver, the man struck out with his fist at the side of Edward's head.

With a shift of his feet, Edward slipped under the swing and camp up on the inside. When the arm came back towards him, he latched onto the wrist and forearm, gripping it tightly. The crowd gasped and cried and moved hurriedly away from the two struggling men. Flipping the wrist over so his palm was facing the sky, Edward yanked him towards the ground, chin first. He knelt down on the drunk's shoulder blade and pulled the arm into his chest, locking it in place. The man under him grunted in pain, but couldn't move from his position.

"Someone wanna call the cops?" Edward asked the cowering people. About thirty cell phones were thrust towards his face, and all Edward could do was smile uncertainty at them.

* * *

Roy pushed his way through the people towards the dance floor, intent on pulling Winry away from Edward. Childhood acquaintance or not, he would be treated with the same heavy hand he treated all of Winry's mistakes.

By the time he had gained the dance floor, Edward was squared off with a teetering man, and Winry was cowering on the edge of the crowd. Pushing his way to the inner ring, Roy gripped his sister's upper arm and pulled her away.

"Wha—wait, Roy—Edward! He could get hurt." Winry pulled on Roy's hand.

"I'm more concerned with what you think you were doing out there with _him_," growled Roy, yanking Winry's arm forward.

"Oh, my God! I don't know what's happening, I mean, I feel so strange. Edward...I don't think I can marry Al. This may sound crazy but I think I'm actually falling in love with Edward." Winry jogged in order to keep up with her brother's long strides.

"Don't be ridiculous! You don't know what you're talking about," hissed Roy, rolling his eyes at the flighty nature of his sister. A large gasp rippled through the crowd, causing Roy to turn back to look over his shoulder. "How could you act like that in front of your future, very paranoid, in-laws?"

"It's like I never really _saw_ who Edward was," continued Winry, oblivious to Roy's comments.

He shoved Winry at the porch without looking, and watched Edward, who seemed to have the situation well in hand. Roy became fascinated as the young man neatly flipped the drunk over and disappeared from sight.

All of a sudden, Winry was no longer within his grasp. Roy whipped around to find that his sister had tripped on the corner of the porch and was grimacing with pain.

"Jesus, Roy, I think you broke my ankle," hissed Winry. "And you broke my shoe. Look the heel came right off!" Winry held aloft the damaged article and groaned as her movement jostled her leg.

"I broke it?" asked Roy, incredulously. He knelt down examined her leg, which was swelling magnificently already.

"You pushed me," she accused.

"Winry!" Pinako cried, coming out of the house to find out where Roy had gotten off too. "What are you doing to yourself?"

"Not me," hissed Winry, pointing at her brother.

"Let's get her inside," Roy motioned Pinako around the other side of Winry's body.

* * *

Standing beside the floor length windows, Edward watched the party resume its carefree celebration. The cops were just finished taking his statement and were exchanging a few words with Roy. He wondered where Winry had gotten off too. He kinda hoped that she would have come back and maybe...swoon a little over his expert handling of the situation.

"Yes, I want to press charges," said Roy, his voice carrying across his office. He glanced at Edward who was standing by the window briefly before turning his attention back to the sergeant.

"Thank you, sir. You'll be hearing from us."

At the sound of the door closing, Edward turned. "Are they done?"

"Yes," Roy crossed the Indian area rug and pulled out his desk chair. Falling into the plush leather seat, he massaged his temples. What a mess. Winry hadn't shut up about Edward while they waited for Hohenheim to bring the car around to take her to the hospital. She repeated her statement about not marrying Al in front of Pinako sending her in a tizzy. Thank God, Maes hadn't been around to hear that. He would have killed a year and a half of hard work on the spot. He had to sort this out somehow.

"Roy." Pinako peeked her head around the door and motioned him outside.

Glancing at Edward standing in the corner, Roy pushed his chair back and stepped into the hall, closing the door behind him.

"What are we going to do? Winry can't get involved with Edward," fretted Pinako, looking both ways down the hall to make sure no one would over hear them.

"I know. I'll have to...distract him or something." Roy ran his hand through his bangs, and sighed.

"You're going to get rid of him? Edward?" Pinako said, shocked.

"What would you rather; Winry off playing with Edward, or Winry married to Al?" hissed Roy.

"I don't like this...there's got to be a better way," Pinako said. She frowned at the cold handed thing they were planning to do. "He's the son of _our_ chauffeur."

"You're not supposed to like it," said Roy. He placed his hand on the door handle and walked back into his office, only to see that the door on the far wall was ajar, and Edward was gone. He just hoped that he hadn't overheard their conversation. The guests began to sing happy birthday, signaling Pinako's time to go. "I'll go look for him. Better go, they're singing happy birthday." Roy waved his mother down the hall.

He watched as she reluctantly left him to his own devices. As soon as she was out of sight, Roy was striding across his office out the other door hoping to track down where Winry's new fixation had gotten off too.

* * *

Strolling through the dark garden, Edward plucked a small flower from a neatly trimmed wild rose bush, and inhaled the sweet, heady scent. Winry had most likely given him the brush off, and that's why she hadn't come back to talk with him. The night seemed to be going so well...he wondered what he did wrong.

Without realizing it, Edward had walked into the solarium. Shaking his head at himself, he continued in and sat on a cushioned lawn chair with his elbows resting on his knees. What _had_ he been hoping for really? Did he honestly want to have his first time _here_? Where Winry had had so many others. Wasn't it supposed to be special and all that jazz. Edward snorted at his own musings. Russell had turned him into a sap...or maybe he was always one. _Geez, I really am gay_, he thought. O_r at least bi_...

"Here you are," Roy said exasperated. "I was looking all over."

Edward's head shot up in surprise. "I thought they were done with me," he said, and hastily stood to address Roy as he came down the flag stone steps to the patio where he was standing.

"_They_ were, but I wasn't," said Roy in a friendly manner. He brandished two champagne glasses and a bottle of champagne at Edward before placing them on the small side table next to Edward's chair. Gripping the bottle neck, Roy twisted the wire taught and popped the cork. A small amount of frothy liquid spilled over and splashed onto the floor.

"What are you doing?" asked Edward, frowning. He didn't get it. Why was Roy seeking him out? Shifting his weight to the other foot, he took the glass offered and blushed as their fingers grazed. What was that! How come his heart was suddenly pounding up against his rib cage? Why the hell did he _feel_ that touch so much? This was Roy! The one who always scared him, chased him... What the _hell_ was that!

"I'm delivering a message," said Roy with a small smile, unaware of Edward's inner turmoil. He held aloft his glass and clinked it with Edward's before taking a sip. His eyes were riveted to Edward's embarrassed, and suspicious face.

"A message?" Edward inquired, taken aback. He didn't like this, it was too...strange. Roy being nice to him... And why the fuck did he still feel that touch! He gripped his champagne glass tight, hoping to erase the tingling in his fingertips with the press of his fingers.

"From Winry. She fell and broke her ankle—we think, anyway—and she made me promise to find you."

"What? How? When! Is she still here?" Spinning around on the ball of his foot, he placed the glass in his hand on the small stone wall encasing the plants and made for the door.

"Whoa!" Roy's hand shot out and pulled back on Edward's shoulder, stopping him. "She's at the hospital, you can see her tomorrow."

Edward turned his head and looked down at the hand resting on his shoulder, making Roy quickly remove it to fall to his side. Twirling the rose in his finger tips, Edward studied the floor, watching Roy out of his peripheral vision. It was...bizarre. Here was Roy, someone who never came out here, who he'd never seen with anyone, talking with him like they were old friends or something. Edward chewed his lip lightly. Could Roy be out here to...get rid of him?

"Are you here to deal with me? Going to offer money to get rid of the inappropriate chauffeur's son?" Edward asked, turning around so he could see Roy better and gage his reactions. Edward raised his eyebrows at the blank look Roy gave him. He couldn't really be out here for that...could he? "What? Going to offer something like fifty thousand? A hundred thousand?" joked Edward, chuckling uneasily at the floor.

"Two hundred thousand," offered Roy. Edward raised his head and looked blankly into Roy's face, and watched as he causally slid his free hand into his pant pocket. "A million," Roy counter-offered, sounding like he was trying to negotiate a contract or something.

"No..." breathed Edward, aghast. He took a step back, and frowned at Roy. He heard about some of the things Roy had done to get rid of unwanted suitors for Winry. To have that directed at him...meant that Roy saw him as a threat. He would not be apart of that. He didn't want anything from them. He wasn't about to be a gold-digger or looking for a pay-day. He genuinely liked—no, loved—Winry.

"Good boy," sighed Roy, his body finally releasing the subtle tension in his shoulders.

Edward hardly knew how to feel knowing that Roy was testing him like that. His mind was a mess as he tried to sort through his confused feelings. He was equal parts angry, horrified, and outraged at Roy's audacity. Just what did he think he was here for? He had been ready to let Winry go, but she came on to him, despite having a fiancé. If she cared about him, she can't care about her soon-to-be-husband. Why shouldn't he explore that?

"So, do you want her message?" Roy asked after a few quiet moments. The music from the party drifted clearly to the solarium. Roy placed his glass on the small end table, and motioned Edward to the center of the patio.

He considered just walking away, and leaving Roy here with a few very choice words about what he could do with his billfold, but he didn't. Curious and highly suspicious, Edward kept his eyes on Roy as he moved where he indicated. He had no clue where this could be going. What sort of message could Winry have for him after Roy just flaunted his money like that?

Edward watched as Roy followed him, and immediately placed his hand on Edward's hip. If he was confused before, he was down right baffled now. He looked down at Roy's hand, wondering what the hell was going through Roy's mind, because he sure as fuck didn't have a clue. Roy then reached down and brought up Edward's hand in his own.

"What the—you're _gay_?" blurted Edward, his jaw going slack, making no move to escape from Roy's hold. The pure shock of that revelation making him momentarily dumb. Roy was coming on to him!

Roy's face struggled with emotion until it settled on disgruntled for a few moments, and then went bland. Edward bit his lip. It was quite obvious that he'd just step over the line. Maybe Roy hadn't even come out yet. Stepping out, Roy drew Edward with him in time to the drifting music. Edward followed easily still feeling very shell shocked.

"Is that why you never brought anyone out here?" wondered Edward cautiously. He never once saw Roy with _anyone_. Male or female, maybe this was why. _A gay CEO (1) couldn't look good to the share holders_, he reasoned. But it shouldn't matter in this day and age. Gay marriage had become legal, they were more accepted in the communities. It was true that there were still unreasonable pockets of resistance, but generally people didn't bat an eye when someone 'came out'.

"I never had anyone I wanted to bring," murmured Roy, sullenly. "Is it so strange that I want to dance with the most beautiful man here?"

"Ah--yeah! I mean, you never do anything fun...that...I...ever saw..." Edward's eyes widened as he processed what Roy had just said. "Oh, and thanks," mumbled Edward looking down and to the side. He could feel the heat on his cheeks, making him fight for control. Why the fuck was he blushing. Just 'cause Roy gave him a complement shouldn't not make him blush! Roy wasn't that good looking... Wait, what the hell did he just think? Roy wasn't good looking—yes, he was—is! Fuck!

"What's with the flower?" wondered Roy, nodding at the small rose in his raised hand.

Edward struggled to get his head around all these revelations he seemed to be having today. First Winry liked him, and now Roy! He shrugged his shoulders, unsure how he should answer. He had just plucked it because it smelt nice, but he didn't want to say that and be scoffed at for it. "Nothing really. Here," said Edward, moving the flower towards Roy so he could smell if he wanted. Just keep the conversation light, and don't think too much... Yeah...right...

"No thanks, I don't want a nose full of pollen," chuckled Roy, his face softening with his mirth.

"What?" wondered Edward, using the moment to study Roy's face—to really see it from a stranger's point of view. At twenty-eight, Roy looked fit with a slightly shaggy hair cut, his bangs falling into his eyes. He was clean shaven and smelled great. Roy was tall too. But as tall as he had gotten, which wasn't much, he only came up to Roy's chin.

"Don't you remember?" inquired Roy, breaking through his observations. Edward shook his head no. Smiling, Roy plucked the rose out of Edward's hand and brought it up to his nose for a long inhale before handing it back. "After you had just arrived here, you went out and decimated the flower gardens. Every single flower. Every one of them, you had gone out and picked. The yard was littered with the flowers you either didn't like or couldn't carry. I found you wondering the house with an arm full of flowers and when you showed them to me you shoved the whole lot of them up my nose."

"I don't remember that," said Edward with a frown. He looked again as Roy hummed like he had just figured something out. "What?"

"I think I just figured out why you don't like me," said Roy, moving them around the flag stones.

"Oh?" He was quite curious to hear this.

"I made you cry for destroying the gardens," murmured Roy, his face softening at the memory of the skinny child, balling his eyes out and running from the house. "Oh! I almost forgot. Your message," whispered Roy. He leaned forward towards Edward's upturned face, and tightened his arms as Edward tried to pull back. Roy brought his lips down to cover Edward's.

With a grunt of surprise, Edward's eyes went wide, and he froze. Roy pulled back almost immediately, and the kiss was over before he could really process what was happening.

"From Winry; the rest of the message," Roy said, looking pleased. His arms were still around Edward's waist, holding him close.

Horrified that Roy would do something so...awful, Edward swung hard and clocked him on the point of his chin with a clench fist, sending him staggering.

"Oh, shit! Um...sorry. Fuck," Edward laughed nervously, running a hand through his bangs. What did he just do? Did he just _hit_ his father's employer? "You...uh...surprised me," said Edward, trying to make it better, but knowing that he couldn't do that. He watched as Roy dabbed at his lip before he slowly straightened.

"Are you okay?" asked Edward, hovering by Roy's side. He had reacted without meaning. Roy had kissed him? What was this all about! He didn't believe for one moment that Winry would ask Roy to _kiss him_ in her place. Shit! What if he was mad at him and fired da in retaliation? No, no...Roy wasn't like that, he was sure...he hoped.

"Yeah, I deserved that," murmured Roy, glancing sidelong at him. Edward flinched in sympathy. Why did he punch Roy? Why did Roy kiss him? Why did Roy dance with him? Why?

"Um...you got my knuckle print...on...your..." Edward's hand reached out to touch Roy's face, but fell away at the last second. "Yeah..."

"I think in future you should pick up your messages in person," said Roy coolly, moving away from Edward to pick up his discarded glass on the side table. "Good night," he said, with a slight tilt of his head in his direction before striding up the steps towards the solarium door.

Nodding at Roy's retreating back, Edward watched Roy push open the glass door and walk out without glancing back. _Just fuckin' brilliant Elric, fuckin' brilliant,_ he thought. He reached up and pressed his fingertips to his tingling lips. _Brilliant..._

-- To be continued --

Review? Maybe? How about it? You know you want to!


	13. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

This chapter got a major re-structuring, hope it's better this way XD Thanks to ZaKai for all her tireless efforts, and hard work!

(1) A line directly from the remake...I just couldn't think of anything more appropriate, sorry.

**Chapter 12**

"Alex, I'm going to stay out here for a few more days. Clear my schedule, and I want you to get the cabin on the cape ready...flowers, candles...ask Winry's secretary, it's the only thing she does...and get the plane ready on standby for nine as well," ordered Roy. He pulled at his bow tie, and released the top button of his dress shirt as he walked through the now deserted party grounds. It had taken longer then he thought to deal with the police and then finding Edward. "What'd you mean she's asleep..." he demanded into the phone. He stopped dead in the middle of the backyard and frowned. "Well you're up...you weren't? Well you are now."

Without people crowding between the tables and the dance floor, the backyard looked abandoned and forlorn. Tables were littered with discarded glasses and plates from the small dinner served with cake. Forgotten napkins had fallen to the grass waiting to be picked up by the wait staff. The band was breaking down their equipment and replacing it in their proper cases, but Roy spared it hardly a glance.

A group of wait staff passed near him and he nodded politely, silently thanking them for their hard work before continuing towards the house. He frowned as he crossed the back patio, and then worked his jaw. Alex was talking to him but he wasn't really paying it any mind. His jaw was throbbing painfully, making him think he should take something for it. Who knew that the kid had such force behind that small frame?

"Just do it please, Alex. Thank you," said Roy briskly, overriding Alex's comments. Snapping his cell closed he strode into the house, and made straight for his office. The remains of his earlier presentation still took up a good portion of the room, and most of his desk. Pulling the chair out, he perched on the edge of the seat and woke up his laptop. He thumbed through his electronic phone book looking for the doctor's number, and picked up the desk phone. He jabbed at the numbers and waited impatiently for someone to pick up.

"It's Roy," he said in answer to the mumbled grunt. "Winry broke her ankle tonight and she hates pain... I was thinking some pain killer with a sleeping tablet... What is this? A sleeping epidemic? It's not that late," said Roy, exasperated. He snapped his wrist up to his face. Two A.M. was not late... It was an early start for work today.

"Oh, she fell on the porch, and she wears those ridiculously high heels... No, she's not going to sue her own mother... Well she's _not_ me, okay! Just—send them over," ordered Roy before slamming down the phone a little harder then he intended. Grumbled under his breath at the whole situation, he leaned back in his chair and folded his hands under his chin, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair. Hopefully, tomorrow—today would turn out better then this evening had.

* * *

Groaning, Edward slammed his hand down on the teal alarm clock in annoyance as it shrilly pronounced that the time was now four-twenty AM. The time change was NOT treating him kindly, and it wouldn't get any easier either. Yesterday, the day after the party, Edward had spent his time resting and getting used to the five hour difference. In the evening, his father had told him the very news he dreaded to hear. His airline carrier had filed for bankruptcy protection; which meant he'd just lost a good portion of his savings to a useless plane ticket.

"Shit..." hissed Edward, panic snapped through his body, making him instantly awake. What could he do how? And then his father had laid another bomb shell on him. Roy had been by the apartment looking for him. Edward had very cautiously asked his father if Roy had said anything else, like maybe that da was now out of a job, but from what he could gather, Roy hadn't done that. Why then was Roy coming round to find _him_? Da didn't know what his reason for coming was, since he didn't say, but...it unnerved him.

Despite all the things going on here, Ling was counting on him to be in California, and he didn't want to miss the opportunity to show off his skills on the world stage. The only down side would be that he would have to face Scar again. That was something he wasn't looking forward to. Their last encounter still left him feeling nervous and angry, and they hadn't even fought one another. Just thinking about it was making him even more panicked.

Shaking his head at himself as though to banish these poisonous thoughts, Edward took a deep breath and held it before rubbing his palm across his face and kneaded his eyes. He would have to work fast and sort out what he was going to have to do to get to L.A. in time for the tournament. He'd make a few calls and check the Internet.

But before he could do that, he wanted—needed to practice. The choreographed team fight was worrying him the most because he hadn't been able to practice it very much, but he could work on the weapons portion of it. Edward kicked the blankets off to the end of the bed. Pointing his toes and reaching above his head, he stretched his whole body and groaned at the stiffness there, and than swung his legs over the side of his bed to pad over to his suitcase. He pulled out his martial art pants, slipping them over his boxers, and began to rummage through his case once more to pull out his hand wraps.

He stood and padded silently over to his dresser where his father had put his package that had arrived in the mail a month ago. He'd ordered the sword over the Internet and had it shipped here so he wouldn't have to worry about bringing it on the plane. He tore into the box, flinging bits of cardboard all over the floor. When he finally made his way past the Styrofoam, and held the sword in his hands, Edward knew he'd made a good purchase.

The straight Chinese blade was sheathed in a dark, midnight blue scabbard, with a matching handle. The steel guard was bright and curved elegantly towards the blade. Edward ran his fingers along the full, red tassel attached to the hilt, and smiled. It was worth every hard earned penny. With a small tug, he pulled the sword free of the scabbard and studied the engraved dragon with pleasure. Yup. Worth it!

Not bothering to put on a shirt or shoes, Edward crept out of the quiet house above the garage and down to the driveway. The morning was cool and gray, but already he could tell that it would soon be hot. The birds were just starting to wake up and begin their morning calls to one another, while the crickets chirped happily away until he passed, resuming once his tread faded.

Figuring that his old haunt, the willow tree, was the best place for an undisturbed workout, Edward sighed to himself as he walked. The grounds were as lovely as ever. He loved the landscaped lawns and the stately old trees.

Once under the tree, he propped the sword up against the bark and began to wrap his hands, covering well up to his forearms. Stretching again, in a last ditch effort to wake his body up, and shake the jet lag, he began to move through his warm up.

* * *

"Pinako?" yelled Roy, his voice carrying down the hall of the second floor. Sometimes he wished that they had a smaller house, if only so it would be easier to locate someone when he wanted them. That's why he liked his city condo. No chance that someone couldn't hear him if he raised his voice. Actually, not like he'd be yelling at someone in the first place, since he never invited anyone over, and really only used the place to sleep, spending most of his time at the office in the city. "Fine. I'll just have to look," he huffed to himself.

The upstairs portion of the house was still for this time of day. Usually by seven Pinako would be striding down the hall and into the kitchen on her way out the door and off to work, or the housekeepers would be making their rounds, dusting and cleaning. But today Pinako shouldn't be planning to head in after such a lavish party, so she had to be around here somewhere, and the housekeepers were busy downstairs.

He looked in her room, only to see that it had been long vacated. The bed was made and the drapes pulled open, letting in the sunshine. He then stopped at the small library overlooking the back garden, and saw that that was empty as well. Roy knew she had to be up here somewhere; he'd already looked everywhere downstairs. As he approached the end of the hall, he could hear the hum from the exercise machine in the small studio gym.

Roy paused inside the open door to see his mother dressed in her gray sweat pants and light blue sweat shirt huffing away on an elliptical machine with her personal trainer hovering beside her. "Here you are," Roy said, entering the room. All his annoyance over having to search the whole house for his mother was suppressed under the veil of a good-natured greeting.

Waving off the young man who was training her, Pinako wiped at her forehead with the towel around her neck, and let the machine slow to a stop. "Are you really planning on going through with this?" she queried, watching him with a slight frown.

"Yes," answered Roy firmly. He strolled over to the window and looked across the grounds. "I'm going to take a few days off to deal with this."

"Maybe I should talk to him," Pinako mused aloud.

"And say what?" asked Roy, turning back to raise an eyebrow at her.

"'Edward, you're a nice boy, but Winry just wants to get into your pants'...can I say that?" she wondered with a frown. "'Get into your pants'? Is that too much for a young man?"

Rolling his eyes at his mother, Roy shook his head and smiled. His mother didn't really know how to talk to young people anymore. "Look, you know I've always gone out of my way to try and befriend Edward. But just because he went away and grew up a bit, doesn't mean that we can sit by while Winry makes such a huge mistake. I got to do this," he said, turning back to glance out the window again, and having to do a double take. A flash of light out by the back garden just vanished from sight. He leaned closer to the pane of glass and squinted towards that half seen flash. "What was that..." mumbled Roy, searching though the far tree branches for the cause of that light.

"What is it?" Pinako wondered, as she resumed her workout behind him.

"I think I just saw something at the bottom of the yard," said Roy, a little louder. He was just about to turn around when he saw again the flash of something bright cut through the leaves.

"Ah, that's probably Fu. I asked him to take care of the roses," his mother said, already huffing with exertion. The trainer mumbled some encouragement to which his mother grunted in acknowledgment.

Roy opened his mouth, about to tell his mother that he didn't think that it was Fu, but just then someone stepped into view. Roy frowned, wondering who would be out there in only a pair of pants. He all but pressed his nose up to the window in order to try to make out who it was. The person turned towards the house then, and Roy noticed blond-golden hair, and suddenly remembered Hohenheim telling him about Edward's martial arts.

Now that he recognized the figure out there his mouth went dry, and his brow furrowed. Naked from the waist up, Edward was moving about with a flash of metal. The rising sun fell at an angle over his tanned body creating an interesting play of shadow and light across his torso, highlighting his muscle definition, and glinting off his hair, making a halo of light around him. The pure grace and ease of his movements were simply...memorizing. Edward worked his way back behind the tree branches and mostly out of sight again.

"I'll be back later," said Roy quickly, spinning around on the ball of his foot, he was out of the room before his mother could respond.

* * *

As the sun began to come up and through the tree branches, Edward let his eyes close as he moved through the various movements of his form. He inhaled deeply as he raised his leg and held out the sword, knowing that the tip was perfectly centered to his body, and then let the heel of his foot touch the ground, transferring his weight to the other leg. Exhaling, he pivoted on the wet grass and knew without using his eyes that he was now facing the rising sun.

Inhaling again, Edward began to swing his arms around when his concentration slipped, making his balance falter. His brow furrowed as he paused, regaining his equilibrium before he could continue. The cause of his inattention was a bit harder to banish, however. Roy's face as they had talked and danced seemed to not want to be ignored. It had popped up many times already. A gesture, a glance, even Roy's expensive cologne became unwitting remembrances.

For every appearance of Roy's face, Edward tried to counter it with a mental picture of Winry. Her smile as they danced the other night, the way she felt in his arms...only that led him to how Roy had held him as they danced, how well he led them across the patio, the smell of the flowers even.

"GAH! Get outta my head!" growled Edward in frustration, opening his eyes and abandoning his pattern for the moment. Shaking his head from side to side, he paced around his practice area in agitation. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," cursed Edward, and then stopped, taking a large, deep breath. Starting with his neck and working down, he began to release all the building tension, until he was as relaxed as he figured he could be under the circumstances.

Letting his eyes slide close once more, he started at the beginning of his routine, taking the time to make sure each movement was correct. He didn't have the time to waste on flights of fancy. He _had_ to focus.

* * *

Roy strode quickly though the house, exiting out the back door. He lengthened his strides to cross the yard as quickly as he could. The brief glimpse of Edward moving like that in the early sunshine... It played over and over again though Roy's head. He frowned slightly at himself, fingering his tender chin, but couldn't convince his feet to turn around and head back to the house to wait for Edward to come to him. He had to see more.

Roy approached slowly, using the hedge as cover to remain out of sight so as to not alert the blond and disrupt the interesting show he wanted to see. He crept forward slowly until he was hiding behind a tree, and he watched as the man moved across the grass barefooted. The play of muscles under the lightly tanned skin drew his eye down from his shoulders to his tapered waist, and the bright sun reflecting off the slim sword seemed to make the blond even more illuminated.

Edward turned away, raising the sword above his head and standing on one leg, and then he dropped into a low stance that looked like he was sitting on the ground. Then he smoothly lifted himself up and spun on his front foot holding the blade level with his shoulder. As he turned around Roy saw that he had his eyes closed.

He hardly knew what to make of himself, hiding like this and spying on Edward. He felt like a kid again, chasing after Edward to try and make the shy boy his friend. Edward leaned forward, the blade held out in front of him as if to run his imaginary opponent through the middle. Moving to the side, Edward struck out again, and vanished from Roy's vantage point.

Moving closer to get a better look, Roy's foot stepped on and snapped a dry twig in half with an incredibly loud crack, making him freeze. He quickly looked down at the offending stick, and then up to see if the younger man had heard him.

Edward whirled around at the noise, the hand with the sword swinging wide making the blade arch wickedly; his fast movement on the wet and uneven ground making his ankle roll. Roy watched in horror as the long metal sword that Edward had been practicing with, flew from his flailing hand straight at him. Startled, Roy scrambled to step back from its deadly path. With a ominous thud, the sword landed on its side and skidded on the wet grass, stopping at Roy's feet.

"What—THE FUCK! You could have been hurt, dumb ass!" roared Edward from his position on the ground. He propped himself up on one elbow, glaring at Roy.

"I'm sorry," said Roy, miffed that he was being yelled at by Edward of all people.

Shaking his head at him, Edward sat back, and pulled his ankle over his other leg. He grimaced as he tested his ankle's mobility, before he stood and gingerly placed weight on his right leg. Shooting an angry glare at Roy, Edward hobbled over towards him. Balancing on his left leg, he bent down and retrieved the sword. It was covered in small grass clippings and dew from last night. Running the sword through his fore finger and thumb, he wiped off the blade and glared at Roy.

"You're lucky. Though it's not sharp, it could still wound you," Edward murmured. He raised the sword and pointed the tip at Roy's face. Roy looked down at the sword tip hovering inches away from his nose. "Here to deliver another message?" Edward asked, his voice calm and even, while he studied his face.

"No, actually," Roy said, narrowing his eyes at the man at the other end of the sword. Why was he feeling off balance? He shouldn't be letting this bother him. So what if Edward spoke in a harsh tone, he was only concerned that he might have hurt him. But the comment about another message, though not unwarranted, seemed to be a bit like hitting below the belt. He knew for a fact that that kiss wasn't bad...too short maybe...but not bad.

It did not escape his notice either that Edward was staring at his mouth. Obviously Edward thought the kiss was alright as well. That was almost enough to make him forget about Edward's tone. But not quite. He wondered once again why Edward had gone along with the dance so easily. It irked him for some reason, thinking that Edward actually had some experience not only with the opposite sex, but he seemed to have a level of comfort with same sex relationships that a normal heterosexual man wouldn't.

But despite all that, he really didn't like that he had lost his cool, even for a brief moment. He'd even apologized, and Edward had the gall to chastise _him_? "I wanted to see if you still wanted to visit Winry. Though, right now she's on heavy pain killers," said Roy, making Edward look into his eyes and abandon his lips. Not his true intent in coming out here, but it would work. He stomped on his annoyance, stuffing it down, and squashing it under his iron will. He had a goal to achieve first.

Edward seemed to consider him for a moment and then he slowly lowered the tip of the sword. They stared at one another for several moments, as if sizing each other up. With a sigh, Edward turned away and limped over to the willow tree and picked up a scabbard propped up against its bark. Sliding the sword into the sheath with an audible click, he stood there a moment and then back looked over his shoulder.

"I got to clean up first. Shall I just go up, or do I meet you somewhere?" Edward asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Meet me in the back, at the kitchen," Roy said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder, and smiling. Edward nodded and walked past him without saying anything further.

* * *

Edward frowned. He didn't like they way Roy had smiled at him. He didn't like that he was once again staring at Roy's mouth. He dropped his gaze down to the wet grass. _What's wrong with me?_ he wondered as he made his way back to the garage, clutching the scabbard tightly in his hand. Why had Roy come to find him like that the other night? And why did he come back near the willow tree? Was it just to find him? Just like when he was younger? First the solarium and now this! It was just...weird. He didn't like it.

As he neared the garage, he noticed that his ankle was now able to take his full weight without protest. He placed one foot on the first step and sighed, sagging over the railing. It was so bothersome to be thinking about Roy and what he might or might not be planning, so he pushed it aside and let his mind go blank. He took the stairs slowly, feeling the burn in his thighs from his workout, and walked along the porch to his room.

Edward threw the sword onto his rumbled bed and padded over to the bathroom, pulling his sweaty hair away from his face. The shower was turned on and his clothes discarded to the floor. He was cleaned and dressed in less then half an hour, wearing dark, casual pants and a slim fitting, button-down shirt—un-tucked—and his hair pulled back into an elastic at the nape of his neck; he looked very much like the rich society he lived near.

Bouncing down the stairs, Edward crossed the lawn separating the garage and the house. Before he could even touch the back door, Roy had it open and was smiling down at him. Slightly startled by Roy's initiative in meeting him, Edward took an involuntary step back.

"She's upstairs, come on." Roy nodded into the house and stepped aside to let him pass. Glancing at him warily, Edward brushed past him and made his way into the house. He crossed into the main hall and started up the stairs with Roy a few steps behind him. Pausing at the top of the stairs, with Roy coming to a stop a step behind him, Edward wondered how wise it would be of him to just walk into Winry's room.

"Should I just go in?" Edward mumbled quietly over his shoulder at Roy. Without answering, Roy climbed the remaining steps and motioned Edward to follow him. The nurse seated outside Winry's room nodded at Roy as he passed, though he didn't respond to her. Roy pushed the door open, and entered his sister's room.

Edward followed behind more slowly. He was anxious about entering Winry's room again after so long. The last time he was here he'd been humiliated by the very person in front of him. The sting of that encounter had not lessened in all this time. Thinking about it even now made him cringe in embarrassment, and made his gut roll unpleasantly, and then the kiss seemed to pop out of nowhere and take the forefront in his mind. He crossed into the room and paused in the doorway, looking around to see that the room hadn't changed in all his time away, and then he looked at the bed.

The curtains were drawn back, letting in the bright sunlight. Winry was lying on her back with her broken leg raised on pillows covered with a fleecy blanket. Her eyes were closed and she didn't stir as they entered. Roy moved to the left side of her bed and folded his arms across his chest, watching him hesitate. Edward took a deep breath and moved further into the room going to stand on the right side of Winry's bed.

Edward could feel those intense black eyes stare at him, making him acutely aware of what his body was doing, where his hands were, where his eyes looked. Trying not to blush while Roy watched him, Edward sat on the side of Winry's bed and scooped up her limp hand. "Can I wake her?" he asked Roy, not removing his gaze from Winry's face.

"Winry..." Roy leaned down and gently shook his sister's shoulder. "Winry," he called a little more insistently.

With a start, Winry's eyes snapped open and rested after a moment on Edward's concerned face. "Heeey," she smiled and shifted closer towards him, pulling his hand up to her lips.

"How are you feeling?" asked Edward quietly, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand. His pulse hardly changed. Here he was, holding the hand of the woman he loved, and he was almost blank inside. It made him wonder if maybe he wasn't just a little bit frivolous just like Winry was.

"Great. I feel great. Do the dry cleaners have your car? (1)" she asked, looking up from his knuckles into Edward's face and smiling with a vacant look in her eyes.

"What?" wondered Edward, looking to Roy for an explanation.

"Er...say, we got a nurse and some Popsicles for you..." Roy said to Winry. "We should go and let her sleep." Roy motioned to Edward.

Edward was disappointed that he was being made to leave so soon, but he understood that Winry needed to rest. He turned back to the woman on the bed and gave her a sad smile. "I'll come..." Edward paused, wondering when he could next visit with Winry, seeing as he'd—hopefully—be on the west cost the day after tomorrow. "When I can, okay?" Winry smiled back at him, and he pulled his hand away after a farewell squeeze. He was silent as he followed Roy back down to the base of the stairs. Winry looked like she would have been in a lot of pain if not for the drugs.

Edward absently watched Roy descend the stairs, and then watched his own feet. "Thanks...for letting me see her," Edward said as his foot touched the first floor, and he looked up into Roy's face to find Roy staring at him intently. It sort of bugged him that Roy still hadn't apologized for kissing him like that, and now here he was _thanking_ Roy.

Dropping his gaze to his feet, he let his other foot touch the floor, and turned towards the kitchen. He had a lot of calls to make and he was losing time.

"Well actually..." said Roy, his voice stopping him, and making him turn back to see what Roy wanted. "I hear that you're going to a tournament in L.A. Virgin Air went under," said Roy, sliding one hand into his pant pocket. "Your father tells me that you lost some money."

"Oh...um..." stammered Edward. He could feel the beginnings of a blush creeping across his face. What was his da doing telling that to Roy? "Well...actually...I was just about to go make a few calls." Edward took another step towards the kitchen.

"I see..." Roy smirked slightly, and then his face went blank. What in the world was Roy thinking off now? "I'm also headed out to L.A..." Roy said, almost to himself. "When do you leave?" inquired Roy.

"Eh?" was all Edward could mange to respond as Roy closed the distance between them. Coming a bit _too_ close for Edward's preference. It was...disconcerting, and he had to look _up_ to be able to look into Roy's eyes, which only served to remind him about the kiss. He dropped his gaze to Roy's mouth. Dammit, he didn't like Roy. Roy was mean, and conniving, he was not someone that he should be looking at their lips. He resisted the desire to take a step back as it would only draw attention to his unease.

"If you can be ready in two hours we could take the helicopter to the airport, the jet will already be prepped, so—" Roy was saying, making Edward refocus on Roy's eyes.

"Er, but—wait!" Edward held up his hand to forestall Roy's further commands. This was all of a sudden spinning out of his control, and he found that he didn't like it too much.

"Yes?" Roy quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Well..." he said uncertainty. Edward shifted his weight to the other foot and caught his bottom lip between his teeth. He _did_ need to get to L.A. and if he didn't have to bother his father for money...well... Roy _was_ already going...

"I see, then it's settled. Be ready in two hours," ordered Roy, already walking down the hall in the opposite direction.

_What the hell?_ thought Edward as he stared after Roy's retreating back. He hadn't said yes! _Fuck it_, he thought, he needed the lift anyway. Spinning around on the ball of his foot, he jogged out the back of the house, across the lawn and up to the garage. He found his father sitting in the living room, sipping from a delicate tea cup and reading a book.

"Da..." Edward called, alerting his father to his presence. Hohenheim looked up from his book expectantly. "I'm... leaving today for L.A."

"I thought you didn't have a flight. Did something happen?" said Hohenheim curiously, closing the book around his finger.

"Well...Roy's heading out there today...so...I'm going to go with him. I'll be leaving in two hours."

His father seemed to study him a moment. "Be careful, Edward, I don't want you getting hurt. The Mustangs, and Roy especially, are really—"

"That's not going to happen, da," Edward said. It was true that he was nervous about going somewhere with Roy, and having to spend time in close quarters with him, but on the other hand, their brief talk in the solarium that night showed him that there was...perhaps...a very interesting man beneath that hard exterior. And he would _not_ be thinking about that kiss... No way!

Hohenheim nodded at his son's assertion. "Well then, make sure you tell me all about how you did," said Hohenheim, flipping open the book and resuming his reading.

He was quite surprised that his father hadn't debated it more with him. It must be that he trusted him to know himself, and be confident enough to handle anything thrown his way. It was kinda nice to have that sort of trust to go his own way. Da had always been like that, but for so long he hadn't wanted that freedom. With a small smile to himself, Edward slipped away to gather a few changes of clothes as well as everything he'd require for the tournament. In no time at all, he was ready, with an hour and a half to kill.

Trudging down to the bottom step of the garage, Edward sat on the lowest riser to wait for Roy. His work out was catching up with him, making him stiff and tired. He wished now that he'd been able to take a longer shower, it always helped to alleviate his stiffness. He hoped that Roy wasn't the talkative type, because he was ready for some extra shut eye.

* * *

Roy tried to hide his amusement at Edward's embarrassment as he walked away. It was quite... Roy hesitated to use the word 'cute', but nothing else fit. Things weren't going according to him original plan, but he felt that he could still make this work. As soon as he was out of sight, he pulled out his cell and quickly called his assistant.

"Alex, have the plane ready in two hours... Los Angeles... uh-huh, and two rooms at Beverly Hills... Adjoining—no make it a suite... Yes, I'm sure... and tickets to whatever's hardest to get tickets to..." Clicking the phone closed without so much as a good bye, Roy opened his office door and started to gather everything he needed to work on while he was caught up with this 'distraction'.

Come to think of it, this distraction had a very new and surprisingly good appearance. Edward's striped dress shirt that he was wearing seemed to accentuate his strong shoulders and narrow waist that he had seen while in the back lawn. The damp blond hair came down his mid-back, and Roy couldn't remember if it was always such a rich golden color or did it change to that while in Paris. Edward had turned into a fine young man, and it seemed that he had indeed been able to shed his shyness.

Running a hand along the side of his head, Roy rolled his eyes at himself. Why was he even thinking about this anyway? He was tired, and maybe he wasn't thinking clearly. He had been too keyed up to sleep again last night, and spent most of the time staring at the ceiling. He had replayed the events in the solarium over and over again, wondering why he was so...agitated by it, and then he hadn't been able to talk to Edward yesterday at all, making him annoyed that he was delayed for another day.

It may have been a bit presumptuous of him to just kiss Edward like that...it certainly had nothing to do with Winry or anything she had asked of him. This wasn't going according to plan, but he could still make this work. Winry always took her conquests to the cape, so he had just planned on doing the same, but as long as he could be around Edward and distract him, L.A. should be no different.

He lifted his briefcase and placed it on the desk, lifting the lid in order to place the work he wanted to take with him on the plane. His laptop went first, then his paperwork for the merger. He'd be behind after this was all over, but...at least the merger would go off without a hitch.

* * *

"I'm having the helicopter pick us up here, to save time. It's already en route," Roy said as he approached the stairs.

Edward stood, bag in hand, his sword thrust through the handles and nodded. Roy suggested they move to the back patio to wait, and by the time they stepped onto the deck the helicopter was coming over the trees to land in the yard. Edward followed Roy's lead and hurried across the lawn, ducking as Roy did to climb into the back. He was handed a pair of bulky headphones and shown how to buckle in.

Edward was thrilled to be in the air and watched the ground with interest. They quickly made their way to the airport, landing on the tarmac not far from a small private jet. A woman with short dark hair stood by the folding stairs, awaiting their arrival. Again, Edward followed Roy as he walked over to the plane. At the foot of the stairs, he turned and allowed Edward to precede him.

Edward moved toward the back of the plane. There were large leather chairs, some facing each other, some not, and a couch like bench. It was all very nice. Throwing his bag on the bench, he took a seat in one of the chairs that faced towards the front, leaving Roy to take the one that faced him.

Looking around, Edward's lips quirked with amusement as Roy took his seat, stashing his briefcase at his feet. Actually, Roy wasn't so bad. He'd been nice, pointing out interesting landmarks as they flew over the city and making great conversation. It was surprising. Edward hadn't thought that Roy knew what nice was, but he was turning out to be someone that was genuine, if not a bit repressed at times.

"Good morning, Mr. Mustang," the woman in a dark dress suit and long squirt said as she came towards them from the front of the plane. She held an assortment of magazines in one arm which she held out for Roy.

"Morning, Maria," greeted Roy absently, shaking his head at the offered items. Already he had a small pile of paper in his lap, and seemed set to get down to work.

"Good morning, sir," the woman said, addressing Edward, offering him the same selection. Edward noticed that they were all business periodicals.

"Morning, and it's Edward," he said, smiling up at the woman with short, close cropped hair. He waved his hand at the magazines.

"Oh, what a fine name. Did you know it means—"

"Maria," Roy warned, sparing a quick glance at her before returning his eyes to his work.

"Yes, sir," said Maria, bowing meekly. The woman moved away, back to the rear of the plane. Edward looked back, watching Maria walk around the corner, and then he looked back at Roy. Settling back in his seat, Edward watched Roy flip through the papers in his lap. His earlier optimism for getting to know Roy dropped several notches. He could vividly recall how every one of the Mustangs would treat the staff and by association him. It was almost like they didn't see the people that worked so close to their home and in other areas of their employment as real people. Enforcing their will on others came very easily for Roy, as he had just demonstrated. But since he was kind enough to be offering him his jet, Edward thought he should at least _try_ and move beyond that.

"This is really cool," said Edward, giving the plane the once over again, smiling at the man opposite from him. Roy grunted at him, without looking up. "Don't you ever look out?" he wondered, pressing his nose on the thick Plexiglas window, watching the ground crew remove the fuel lines.

"Hmm?" Roy asked, looking up to see what Edward was talking about.

"The window? Don't you ever look out?" Ed asked again. He sat back in his chair and pointed at the window. The engine whined to life and lurched as it taxied out to the runway.

"I don't have time. I work in the real world, you know," said Roy with a bland look on his face.

"What about all the time you saved on the helicopter ride over?" asked Edward, raising an eyebrow. Didn't Roy ever relax? He supposed that running a huge company like Mustang Inc. took a lot of time, but didn't he ever stop? Even for a moment?

Pressing his lips together, Roy gave Edward an exasperated look. "I'm saving it up," he finally replied, going back to his report.

"For when?" Edward wondered, watching Roy mark up the papers in his lap.

"Refreshments before take off?" Maria asked, holding a small pad of paper in her hands with a pencil hovering over the page. She looked expectantly at Roy.

"Perrier," Roy said without looking at Maria.

Edward looked across at Roy and frowned. Couldn't he even offer a bit of courtesy? Even if he looked at her for only a moment, the eye contact meant that he wasn't ignoring her. Looking up at Maria, Edward gave her a small smile by way of apology and ordered the same. With a brilliant smile in return, she left to prepare the drinks. She came back moments later and handed Roy a heavy crystal glass with clear bubbly liquid and a lime wedge in the bottom, which he took and immediately placed in the cup holder by his elbow, and resumed his work. Edward, on the other hand, took his glass with a clear and concise thank you, which Maria graced him with a smile.

The plane rolled to a stop at the end of the runway, and the engines powered up. Quickly depositing his glass in his own cup holder, Edward felt the familiar anxiety in the pit of his stomach as they started hurtling down the tarmac, and he gripped the arms of his chair, making his knuckles white. He turned his face away from the window and looked down at the patterned carpet.

"Nervous?" Roy asked, seeing the gesture.

"Only for take off," said Ed though gritted teeth. Why did the plane have to shudder _so_ much during take-off?

"So, what are you doing while in L.A.?" asked Roy conversationally to get Edward's mind off their ascent.

"I'm competing in a martial arts tournament," Edward grit out, pointedly not looking out the window at the moment.

"That's why the sword?" asked Roy, looking across the small plane at the bag and the sword resting on the couch. Edward nodded, and took a steadying breath. "Are you any good? I heard Hohenheim talking about your medals a few months ago, but I didn't really hear too much about it."

"Ling seems to think I'm a prodigy. I basically achieved black belt in three different martial arts in just two years, so..." Edward shrugged. They were now well into the air and he was starting to feel much more relaxed.

"That's impressive. I'll have to watch then, since your father can't witness it," Roy said with a small smirk.

"Oh, that's okay, I'm sure you have lots of work to do, eh?" Edward said, getting flustered at the prospect of Roy's proposal. That wouldn't help his nerves, that's for sure. He was already keyed up from worrying about the competition, and now Roy was going to watch too.

"It's no trouble, I'd be interested to see what it is you do," assured Roy. In fact, he was quite eager to see more of Edward's graceful movements. When he saw that Edward was bringing the sword with him, he became, surprisingly enough, very excited. He puzzled over that for the whole helicopter ride to the airport.

"Uh, okay." Edward shifted in his seat, and looked at Roy's slightly parted lips for a moment before looking quickly away. What a time to be thinking about the kiss. It wasn't _that_ good. "So, uh—oh shit!" cursed Edward, sitting up straight in his seat in a panic.

"What?" asked Roy, leaning forward a bit in his seat.

"I didn't make any reservations! You got a phone I can use to call a motel?" Ed looked down the arm of his chair, and then shifted to the other side, looking between the plane wall and the chair.

"No need, it's all taken care of," assured Roy, relaxing back into his chair. At Edward's puzzled look, Roy smiled. "I booked rooms for us at the Beverly Hills," he said.

"The...but wait! That place is really expensive!" said Edward, loudly in distress, leaning forward in his seat. Roy shrugged at him. "Roy..." he said lowly, wondering how he was expected to pay for that.

"Yes?" Roy quirked an eyebrow at him.

Edward studied him for a moment. Just as always, Roy got what Roy wanted. "Do you always get your way?" he said with a sigh, leaning back into his seat, and watched as Roy nodded slowly and then looked down into his lap. Really, it was too much bother to fight it. Maybe he'd slip some money into Roy luggage later when he wasn't looking. Not that he could repay the full price, but the gesture counted, right?

-- To be continued --

Not an action packed chapter, but I hope it pleases you just the same XD Don't worry though, the upcoming chapters well have lots of goodies for you fangirls...boys (?) out there! So, drop me a review, to let me know that you're still out there and reading!

kiki


	14. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

ZaKai, you had to look at this, like, three times, and I know you hate to do that. So THANK YOU for your patience, and guidance! -hugs-

**Chapter 13**

The soothing rocking motion that Edward had been enjoying for the last three hours, became more jarring for some reason. When consciousness was something he could no longer ignore, he slowly opened his eyes to see Roy leaning over him. A little too close, as all he could see were Roy's lips. Edward blinked in confusion and leaned his head into the back of the seat in an effort to create a sense of space between his face and Roy's.

"Edward, we've landed," Roy said, letting his hand drop from the blond's shoulder. After a brief moment where he hovered over him, Roy stood, putting his free hand into his pant pocket.

"We have?" he asked in confusion. Edward wiped at his eyes, and sat upright in his seat only to pull up short as his lap belt pull tight across his lower stomach. Shortly after takeoff he'd been lulled by the sounds of the plane's engines. After fighting sleep for half an hour, Roy had assured him that it was okay to sleep, since he had work to do.

"Yeah. Come on, the car is waiting," said Roy, beckoning him with a wave of his hand, and lifting his briefcase from his seat.

Blinking, Edward looked down at his lap, released his seatbelt, and snatched up his bag from the couch as he stood. Following behind Roy out the plane, he looked up to see a white limousine parked along side the plane. The chauffeur was standing by the rear of the car, holding the door open for them to enter the vehicle. When Roy motioned for him to go first, Edward nodded at the chauffeur, and climbed across the back seat to sit on the far side.

"You sure like to live it up, don't you?" Edward said, looking around the interior of the nicely furnished car.

Roy grunted, and placed his briefcase on the seat between them. "I try to make economical choices whenever possible."

"Yeah, but you're still living large. Look at this; the plane, the car, the hotel we're going to..." Edward said as he gestured out the window at the small jet. "Even the way you treated Maria in there; I mean, you radiate 'rich guy' all over the place."

Roy quirked an eyebrow at what Edward pointed out, and then shrugged. "I don't know what you mean, I treat Maria very well," Roy said as the car pulled away from the plane, heading towards the edge of the airport. Roy looked across the back seat at Edward.

"You really don't see it, do you?" Edward shook his head. "You do the same to me; like I'm beneath you, and your notice."

"I do not," Roy contradicted him, frowning in bewilderment.

Edward pressed his lips and looked out the window as the limo pulled onto the highway. He hadn't wanted to start an argument, but it just sorta happened. He must still be a little tired to be saying this after Roy was so nice to offer him a free plane ride and hotel. Since Roy was being nice to him, he would let his comments pass for now; though he did want to educate Roy on his behavior at some point. Maybe when he was back in New York and he didn't have a chance to be stranded in L.A.

The rest of the ride to the hotel was quiet. Both of them were staring out their respective windows, taking in the bright sunny freeways and the approaching downtown. The limo slipped easily through traffic pulling up in front of the hotel in time for lunch—or early supper, New York time.

Edward stepped out of the limo and raised his arms over his head for a nice long stretch. His body creaked and popped as it protested the movement, causing him to groan. He had to loosen up before the tournament—which was just a couple of days away—or else it would hurt him in the end. Turning to look up at the hotel's facade, Edward had to admit to himself that the place was really nice, and this place was sure to have whirlpool tubs. That would go a long way to helping him relax.

His eyes fell down to watch Roy as he exited the car on the other side, thanking the chauffeur that was holding the car door open. Roy's black hair shone brilliantly in the sun, turning almost blue it was so dark, and the sunlight only seemed to highlight that fact. Why hadn't he ever noticed that before? He frowned slightly at himself. What else hadn't he noticed about Roy? The chauffeur walked around the back of the car and spoke softly to Edward, breaking the moment. With a nod of thanks to the chauffeur, Edward bent down and picked up his small luggage, and then walked around the back of the car to stand beside Roy.

Looking up into Roy's face, Edward said with a smirk, "Lead the way. You're paying after all." Roy grunted and walked up the steps to the front door with Edward a few paces behind. The doorman held the door open with a bow, and welcomed them to the Beverly Hills Hotel. While Roy barely acknowledged him, Edward nodded at him with a smile.

Roy headed over to the check-in desk, and picked up the room card. He waved off the bell hop, and then led the way to the elevator. He pushed the button, and then turned back as Edward came up beside him. "So, can I take you out to dinner—or rather lunch? Or do you have to do something for this tournament?" Roy asked.

"No, I don't have anything today. But do you think the room will have a whirlpool tub? I'm starting to seize up," replied Edward, reaching up to rub at his tightening shoulders. It was times like these that he really missed Russell's back massages. But that was what happened when you broke off with someone, you lost the good bits of the relationship. At least they were still friends.

"Of course. After your soak we can head out. I'm feeling a little tired from the flight myself," said Roy with a small nod of his head at him.

"Heh, sure. It's a date," said Edward, smiling. Then it hit him. Oh, my God! What had he just said? _Why_ had he said that? He didn't want to date _Roy_! He looked side long at Roy to see if he'd taken offense to his comment. Roy raised his eyebrows, and regarded him from the corner of his eyes. Slowly a smirk grew on Roy's face until he was grinning suggestively at him. Edward blushed hard. "Er—I mean—well..." stammered Edward, trying to cover what couldn't be covered.

Fuck! And Roy was gay too. Would he take it the wrong way? He was _not_ coming onto Roy! That was for sure, but maybe Roy wouldn't know the difference, and get the wrong idea. How could he handle that? Russell was so easy to be around when they were together, but Roy...and dating...ugh, it made his stomach heave unpleasantly.

Where was the elevator? Why was the elevator taking so long? It's not like there were _that_ many floors to the place! The elevator should have been here already. Maybe he should press the button again. It was lit, but maybe Roy didn't press it hard enough. One could never be too sure about these things.

"Why so nervous?" Roy wondered, seeming to thoroughly enjoying the splash of pink spreading over his cheeks. "A date is a date after all. I'll pick you up at two," said Roy, his voice dropping suggestively.

"Er—I mean, well...it's not like it sounded. I mean, I'm sure you're a nice guy and all...er...sometimes, but..." Edward trailed off, and then mumbled, "I...well...I did date a guy in Paris, but..." Edward frowned. "I didn't mean to suggest that I wanted a date with _you_." Edward looked over in time to see a flash of annoyance...? Maybe, even a bit of hurt slip across Roy's face, making Edward hurry to say something more. "It's just that it...came out...sorta wrong. I'm sure that you're a very nice date...to other people...just not me—I mean, I'm not your date!"

Edward looked at the elevator doors, praying with all his might that they would open and save him from the grave he was digging himself. Fucking dammit! Why was he rambling like this? He felt like he was about to walk into an exam he hadn't studied for. He reached up and pulled his braid over his shoulder, and resisted the urge to pull his hair apart and hide.

"Er—never mind." Edward shook his head more at himself then anything. The doors finally slid apart and Roy motioned him forward. Stepping across the threshold, Edward turned and watched Roy enter behind him. His eyes were instantly drawn down to Roy's slightly smirking lips. He knew he was staring, but he couldn't help himself. Those lips were... He fumbled his bag and it slipped, falling to the floor. Blushing much harder now, Edward quickly bent over to scoop it back up, and made sure to not finish that thought.

They were silent as they ascended the three floors, but Edward fidgeted on the other side of the elevator and kept sneaking glances at Roy. He could swear that Roy was watching him from the corner of his eyes, but with his cell phone in hand he could just as easily be looking at that as he pressed the buttons. What was he doing? Sending a text to someone? The doors pulled apart and Roy snapped his phone closed, leading the way to the room where Roy used his key card on their door.

Roy pushed the door wide and allowed Edward to enter first. Stepping across the threshold, and passing too close to Roy in the process, Edward came to a halt in awe of his surroundings. Completely accustomed to the finer things of life from his exposure to the Mustang household, he would have thought that the opulence before him wouldn't make a dent.

He was wrong.

The generous sized living room with its fireplace and plasma TV mounted above it, the small eating nook by the patio deck, and the room beyond; all tastefully decorated with a soothing color palate. There were even fresh lilies mixed with tall green leaves in a lead-crystal vase on the table in the eating nook, and today's paper—several different editions—were lying on the foyer entrance table.

Edward frowned. Wait a minute... He looked at the other end of the room, but there wasn't a door there at all, except for the bathroom. He turned his glare back to the open door on the opposite side of the room. He could see the four poster bed quite clearly from his position in the foyer of the suite. The door swung closed as he scratched his cheek in puzzlement. Frowning, he walked towards the room and peeked inside. There was only _one_ bedroom.

He pushed off the door frame and turned around. Roy had picked up one of the papers and was scanning the front page, then looked up at him. "It's pretty nice, eh?" remarked Roy as he placed his case on the floor, and nodded in approval at the room. He folded the paper in half and smiled at him.

"Yeah, but...ah...don't you notice something odd?" asked Edward looking across the room at Roy.

Roy pressed his lips, frowned slightly, and surveyed the room. "No. Do you?" he wondered, quirking an eyebrow at Edward.

"Yeah!" said Edward sardonically. He stepped back towards the room and waved his arm at it before turned to glare at Roy. "One bedroom!" He let his bag thump down to the floor and cross his hands over his chest.

"What?" said Roy curiously. He looked around the suite again. With a frown Roy crossed over to the open door of the bedroom and checked inside. Edward watched as Roy searched, feeling a little bit wary that maybe he'd planned it this way. Maybe he really had wanted a date...? Turning back to the living room, Roy pulled out his cell, and pressed a quick series of buttons before holding the phone up to his ear.

"Alex, when you booked the room... Yeah, two of us though..." said Roy, frowning at the floor. He leaned into the door frame.

Edward watched expectantly as Roy spoke into his phone. His eyes once again drifted down to Roy's mouth. He loved to watch the flash of his straight white teeth as spoke, the way his tongue flicked inside his mouth and against his teeth. Thrusting his hands deep into his pockets, Edward allowed himself the opportunity to study Roy a bit closer than he had ever before.

"I'm just saying..." said Roy, shifted to rest more of his weight into the door frame.

Roy had wide shoulders that filled out his dress shirt nicely. Edward could even tell that he must work out somewhat, as Roy's arms seemed to be sculpted. His neatly tucked-in shirt accentuated his trim and tapered waist line. The dark expensive looking slacks seemed to make Roy's already tall body more slim and elongated. Now that he thought about it, Roy was really quite handsome...

Wait—what? What the hell did he just think? Did he 'love' to watch Roy's mouth? When had that happened? Had he just _admired_ Roy's body too? What was wrong with him? And Roy was handsome! No, he wasn't! Roy was the farthest thing from handsome! Roy was ugly! He sure as fuck didn't like _Roy_! _It's Winry! Winry's the one I like!_ he thought desperately.

"Alright, call me back when you know." Roy flipped his phone closed, and replaced it in pants pocket. "Sorry. It seems that when I said I wanted a suite, Alex forgot that you were coming with me. He's going to sort it out in a second and call me back. Did you want anything to drink?" asked Roy, moving towards the small fridge.

"No, thanks," replied Edward, trying to get himself under control. He let his gaze drop to the floor before him so he didn't have to look at Roy. "How come you just don't call down yourself?" wondered Edward, moving over towards the couch. Just don't assume the worse. Roy wasn't going to go to all this trouble just to trick him. It was a mistake, just like he said. Roy hadn't planned for this; he seemed just as shocked as he was when he pointed out the missing bedroom.

"It's his mistake; he's got to fix it." Roy pulled out a chilled bottle of water from the bar fridge and broke the seal on the cap.

Edward snorted and rolled his eyes. There he goes again, treating people like they're below him. Latching on to his annoyance of Roy's behavior help him to put aside his...—please, don't think about it!—strange thoughts about Roy's appearance, and Roy's conniving mind. Flopping down sideways atop the small couch, he rested his head on the back and closed his eyes with a sigh.

Edward could hear Roy's soft footsteps along the carpet, but resisted his instinct to open his eyes right away. He wanted to see if Roy would say anything; maybe show him somehow that he'd planned all this. But all he heard was water sloshing around the plastic bottle. Edward cracked his eyes watched Roy critically. "How come I've never seen you with anyone before?" wondered Edward, shifting along the couch to sit near the arm.

"Ah, that's right, you're a 'watcher' aren't you?" said Roy, looking down his nose at the young man on the couch. Edward pressed his lips, but said nothing. It wasn't as though he had been discrete in his obsession, but still. It was embarrassing enough without Roy pointing it out to him.

"I'm not with anyone right now, so you're free to make a move on me if you like," joked Roy with a smirk. He let his gaze travel over Edward's face and up to his hair and then down to the small divot at the base of the neck.

"What!" yelled Edward, sitting up straight in shock, and feeling frazzled under Roy's scrutiny.

"Relax, it's just a joke," said Roy, chuckling. He lifted the bottle back up to his mouth and drank. Edward watched him, and somehow even though Roy had a mouth full of water, he seemed awfully happy.

"Ugh! Anyway, since we're getting another room, I'm going to have my soak now. I'm totally stiff," said Edward, changing the subject. He arched his back to ease the tightening there.

"Are you now?" wondered Roy with a widening smirk. Edward looked over at Roy to see him running his gaze down his body. Headed for his...crotch!

"Hey! Not like that, bastard," squeaked Edward jumping to his feet before Roy could look too far down. Roy chuckled softly at him, and turned to sit on the ottoman. With a disgruntled snort, Edward crossed the room and scooped up his bag to take with him into the bedroom. Before closing the door, he turned around to glare at Roy who was still watching him intently. Huffing loudly, he slammed the door.

Dammit! Leaning back into the door, Edward stared around the tastefully decorated room, and then at his feet. He wasn't going to think about Roy...he was going to concentrate on his tournament! Pushing off the door, he crossed over to the bathroom, and closed that door behind him as well. With a flick of the wrist, he locked the door. He was going to have a nice long soak to ease his muscles, and then...he wasn't going to think about Roy, or how little he knew about the man, or even that he had really nice lips. No, definitely _not_ going to do that. Not at all!

* * *

Roy closed his eyes in mirth at Edward's hasty retreat and smiled at the floor. Ah, even if this was his duty, it seemed like he was going to have a bit of fun with it. He chuckled at the memory of the look on Edward's face when he had started to ogle Edward's body, and then his smile slipped. Edward was really quite different, but still very much the same. His face was so expressive and fluid, and the way he blushed at his innuendo made him very pleased. It meant that his plan had a chance. He found himself wanting to provoke him, just so he could see that face move with the expressions of his. It made Roy want to chase after him all over again, as if he were a small boy again. His smile disappeared completely and he frowned at the floor.

He had heard Edward's mumbled comment in the elevator about having dated a man before, although he was sure that he wasn't meant to. What sort of man would make Edward, in love with his sister, want to date someone of the same sex? He seemed to care for Winry on some level at least, so did Edward prefer men...or women? It had been a long shot for him to deal with Edward in this manner, rather then just shipping him off with a large check, but he...felt compelled to handle it in this way, mimicking his sister this once...

Never one to analyze his actions, Roy began to second guess his course of action. Edward had jumped to conclusions about his sexuality, but he hadn't been wrong. He was gay, and had hidden it from everyone. He believed that his act was airtight, since most of the women at any function he ever went too would be all over him with the intent of trying to arrange a meeting for a tryst. He'd never accept, but handled it in such a way that his sexually never came into question.

The phone within his pocket suddenly began to ring. Shifting his weight to one side, Roy dug into his pocket and flipped open the phone.

"Mustang... Really, and why is that?... Are you sure?... Okay, thanks." Roy snapped the phone closed, and pressed his lips in thought. This could either work out really well...or blow up in his face. He was willing to take that chance. It was his job after all. Taking chances and reading people was what he did daily, and made he millions for his efforts. Roy could hear water as it splashed into the tub. Well, it looked like he had a while before he had to break the news, not that it bothered him any, but he could see Edward not liking it too much.

Putting his empty water bottle on the glass coffee table, Roy stood and walked over to his bag. Picking it up, he padded across the room to the bedroom, and without any hesitation for whatever state of undress Edward may be in, he opened the door. Roy's gaze swept around the room, he grunted to himself. No Edward in sight; he was already in the bathroom. Placing his bag at the foot of the bed, he crawled over the king sized bed and laid down on his back, making himself comfortable for his nap.

He may have always liked Edward from when they were younger, but he was sure that once his plan came to fruition, Edward would no longer want anything to do with him. If it was done to him, he'd react the same. He was prepared for whatever Edward would say to him at that time. It really was going to be bastardly thing for him to do, and to his chauffeur's kid no less.

They had grown up alongside one another, and even though Edward had always run away from him, Roy didn't hold it against him. For whatever reason, Edward had been scared of him as a young child, but that was in the past now. For a little while, Roy could interact with Edward as adults, and enjoy his company. For a few more days...he could pretend.

* * *

Ah, the water was nice. It was doing wonders for his tense muscles and slightly frazzled nerves. Sinking lower into the steaming hot water, Edward let out a soft sigh of relaxation. Tomorrow he had to head over to where the guys were staying for one last chance to practice. He wondered if Roy was really going to tag along for that or not. He kinda hoped that he wouldn't. He didn't need the distraction of his presence, and Roy _was_ distracting. He found himself wondering what motivated Roy to do half of the things he did. No, no, stop it! Not supposed to think of that bastard.

He sighed, and sunk lower. _How long have I been in here, already?_ wondered Edward. He idly placed his elbow on the edge of the marble tub and watched as the water dripped off his wrinkled fingertips back into the tub. Roy most likely has the room all sorted out by now, and he was starting to get hungry. Maybe it was time to get out of here and hunt down that lunch Roy had offered.

Feeling totally relaxed and much like a prune, Edward shifted forward and pulled the plug to drain the water. His wet hair clung uncomfortably to his back and face, and he pushed it off his face. Stepping from the tub to the small plush mat, he snatched up a towel and briskly wiped himself down before attacking his hair vigorously.

Padding over to his bag, he pulled out a fresh pair of boxers and slipped them on. Fishing his comb from his bag, he began to tame his wet, tangled mass of hair in order to braid it. Once he was done with his hair he ran a hand over his chin, Edward noted in amusement that he didn't have to shave. He rarely had to shave more than twice a week. He supposed he should be happy about that as he didn't like to shave that much anyway, but his father had a nice beard. Maybe someday...

Pulling the pants from earlier back on, he walked over to the door and flicked the lock open. Gripping the handle with his left hand, Ed pulled the door open and stopped dead. Roy was sprawled over the bed with his dark bangs falling into his sleep relaxed face. Did he fall asleep waiting for him to get out of the bathroom? There was another bathroom in the living room, he could have just used... Oh, that's right, Roy had said he was tired too.

Edward sighed with indecision. Should he wake him up? But he didn't want to crawl over the large bed and do that. Maybe... He turned around and pulled the hotel's blow dryer off its stand and plugged it into the plug near the counter. Undoing his braid, he turned the blow dryer on and began to work his fingers through. It wasn't the best way to wake someone, but he wasn't going to go near him when he was like that.

After a few minutes Edward saw Roy in the mirror, standing in the bathroom door, looking bleary eyed and tired. Without turning, he nodded at Roy in greeting. Roy just pressed his lips and left. Shrugging his shoulders, Edward continued to wave the blow dryer over his hair until it was mostly dry and re-braided it.

"Are you almost ready?" called Roy as the dryer was turned off.

"Yeah." Edward quickly pulled on his under shirt.

"Good, cause I'm starving," said Roy loud enough for Edward to hear. "I have tickets to a play here, but before that we'll have dinner at the Marriott."

Coming out of the bedroom, Edward swung his button down shirt around and worked his arms down the sleeves. "Well, I was thinking..."

* * *

"Ah, man, I used to eat at this little Japanese restaurant all the time in Paris. It drove Russell nuts," Edward said, before popping a morsel of sushi in his mouth with his chopsticks. "That and this deli, those were the only places I wanted to eat at."

"It's good, I'll give you that," conceded Roy. He growled softly at his inability to make his sticks work like Edward's, but he was _not_ going to ask for a fork like Edward kept insisting he ought to do. "When I can eat any of it that is," chuckled Roy, dropping his gyoza back onto the plate for the fifth time. "The hell with this." Roy placed his sticks on the napkin and picked up the dumpling with his fingers, dipped it in some sauce and popped it in his mouth.

"Ha ha, I think that's the only time I ever heard you swear," chuckled Edward. He covered his mouth with his hand and laughed out loud.

"I bet there's a lot you don't know about me, Edward," said Roy thoughtfully.

That sobered Edward from his mirth and he looked down at his plate. Yeah. He really didn't know much about Roy at all. They practically grew up together and he was, for all intents and purposes, a stranger. He had been enjoying himself so far, and Roy wasn't being scary. Now he wondered why he had thought he was scary at all as a child.

"So, tell me about Paris. What did you like the best?" asked Roy into the somber silence, and then looked down at his almost full plate. His stomach gave an angry growl. "But before that, how the hell do you work these damn sticks?"

Smiling, Edward lifted his own pair and showed Roy his hand. "Okay...well put the bottom one down in the fold of your thumb—that one doesn't move. It's the other one that does all the work." He demonstrated this by moving only the top chopstick and then picking up a gyoza for himself.

Roy pressed his lips in annoyance at how easy Edward was making it look. His sticks had to be defective. "How come mine aren't doing what yours are?" wondered Roy, frowning at the blond across from him.

Chuckling and shaking his head, Edward crawled across the woven grass mats and took a seat at the table near Roy's right. "Well—here. You got to go like this," instructed Edward, holding onto Roy's larger hand and positioning the chopsticks as he had instructed. He tried to work as fast as possible because he could feel his cheeks start to heat up and he didn't want to blush now. After he fixed Roy's chopsticks, he quickly put his elbows on the table in front of him and motioned Roy to try it out.

Shooting a dubious glance at Edward, Roy looked over the plates of food on the table, wondering what he should choose, and decided on a tempura dipped bean sprout. His sticks slowly approached the bean and with a little nudging he got them to open up. He grinned when he was successful in getting the bean across the table and up to his mouth.

"See?" Edward smirked in triumph. Roy just snorted at him. Edward pushed himself away from the table in order to resume his place opposite Roy, but was stopped by a warm hand on his forearm. He turned a questioning glance at the man seated beside him.

"I don't feel as though I'm shouting if you sit here," said Roy softly.

"Oh, okay," said Edward, feeling nervous to be sitting so close, but unable to think of any way to refuse when Roy had asked so nicely. Reaching across the table, he pulled his chopsticks and plate to put in front of him. "Remember, the top one moves," he said brandishing his own sticks at Roy in order to hide his anxiety.

"Right." Roy smiled and awkwardly moved his chopsticks. "So...tell me about Paris," asked Roy once more as he reached across the table to pluck at more food; only marginally more successful from last time.

"Well...I don't know. Are you into architecture?" At Roy's confused head tilt, Edward explained. "Well Paris has tons of old buildings. Even the new ones are designed to be mentally stimulating or visually appealing in some way. Oh! And the people are really great. But really I had a hard time learning to speak French. I still can't read it very well. Russell would tease me all the time about my reading. I butchered the French language, but reading...it was a frigging massacre."

"You've mentioned this Russell quite a bit tonight. Were you guys..." Roy paused very briefly, thinking maybe he shouldn't ask, but his mouth decided for him. "Close?"

"Ah—yeah. He was my co-worker...and my...um...first friend," said Edward, his cheeks getting pink as he looked down at his plate. Roy studied Edward's body language, the nervous shifting, the fiddling with his chopsticks, and suddenly found himself correct in his earlier assumptions. Edward _had_ dated a guy. This made Roy _very_ curious.

* * *

Long after the food was gone, they sat and talked, drinking green tea and sake. Roy watched, entranced, as Edward's eyes flashed with passion as he spoke. How could it be that Edward's eyes seemed to change color so fast and so many times? Never in his life had he seen such a strange luminance in someone's eyes. It was so vexing and intriguing that sometimes Roy would forget to listen to what Edward was saying and just _stare_.

No hint of the shy, awkward boy was left. Before him was an articulate, well spoken, fascinating young man. Each gesture, each funny story, had Roy enthralled and laughing. He couldn't remember a time that he had laughed so freely and easily. He felt light and content. For the first time in his life he didn't have to be anyone but himself, and he was accepted for it. They soon drifted from talking about Paris onto other things. What they liked to eat, do for fun, and read. It seemed they had to touch on everything, had to make up for lost time.

"Do you miss it?" asked Roy as they strolled out into the late night after spending all evening at the restaurant. It was going on ten o'clock, and they had gone to dinner for three.

"What?" wondered Ed as he watched his feet. He then yawned widely, and threw a sheepish look Roy's way in apology.

"Paris," said Roy, smiling down at Edward.

Edward snorted softly in amusement. "No, not yet. But I'm sure I will."

"You know, the way you describe it... It makes me want to do something like that," said Roy softly, frowning at himself slightly. He wasn't sure, but he found that he wished he had had the freedom to do what he wanted as a young man, rather then what was expected. He almost wanted to abandon his plan...but he couldn't. He couldn't do anything like that. He was the only one who could guide the company, who could take it to new heights. His mother was very business savvy, but she was getting old. She couldn't keep up to the pace he set. He was bound to the company.

"Do what?" Edward looked up and frowned slightly at Roy's remorseful expression, and then looked away again.

"You know 'find myself'. I mean, I never really got to choose what I wanted to do. My father died, and I took over the company as soon as I was old enough. I'm good at what I do, but...what if I was really supposed to be a poet or something." At Edward's amused snort, Roy clicked his tongue at the man beside him and smiled. "Okay, so not a poet, but you get my meaning right?"

"Yeah, I do. I'm really glad that I found martial arts and that I'm so good at it. It's like I'm able to do all these amazing things with my body and I might get really tired and sore, but I feel really good about it all too, ya know? I just hope that I do half way decent—are you really going to come tomorrow and to the tournament?" asked Edward sounding very worried about the prospect.

"Oh, yeah. After what you told me what was involved, I wouldn't miss it. I can't wait to see that sword thing you were telling me about. The sparring sounds equally fascinating as well," said Roy with a smile. Just picturing Edward with that sword made him feel excited and giddy.

Heaving a resigned sigh, Edward slumped forward and stared blandly at the sidewalk. "Well, I suppose I can't really say anything since you're giving me a free hotel room and airfare."

"Hmm, yes. You owe me." Roy paused thinking that maybe now would be a good time to tell Edward about the room, and perhaps if he did it right, he'd get Edward to react, and he'd get to see more of those fascinating displays of emotion. "You know, now that you mention the hotel..." said Roy. He dangled the bait under Edward's nose. Edward cast a curious glance his way which Roy caught out of the corner of his eye. "It seems you're stuck with me."

"Huh?" grunted Edward, another frown creasing his forehead. He turned his head to look at Roy better as they walked.

"We have to share," stated Roy, not glancing his way, but rather leading them towards the hotel. He could see the top of the building, so they didn't have much father to go. He wondered what was going through Edward's head at that moment, and if he comprehended what he meant by 'sharing'.

"What?" came Edward's puzzled query.

"I like the left side of the bed," Roy said in answer, hopefully adding to Edward's confusion just a little bit.

"EH! But I thought—"

"Yes, well, it seems suites don't come in two bedrooms, and I'm fond of that room. But if you want to call down to the front desk and book your own room—"

"You're kicking me _out_?" asked Edward incredulously and stopped dead on the sidewalk to stare at the back of Roy's head.

"Do your toes get cold at night?" asked Roy, stopping as well. He turned back to watch the reaction on Edward's face. Edward's jaw was open and he had a look of pure horror on his face. Roy fought the smirk that wanted to split across his face. Edward really was very open with his emotions, letting them play across his face for the whole world to see. For someone who started out so shy, it was entertaining to be able to push buttons and immediately see the fruits of his efforts. It was great. "If so, please keep them on your side. I hate having to wake up with cold toes in the back of my knees."

Edward gaped at him for several moments more before he snapped out of it. "Fine!" Edward barked at him. "I don't have enough money to get my own place here. I'll just go somewhere else," Edward said petulantly with a frown up at Roy before he looked back down the street.

"Oh, you _could_ do that, but apparently there's this tournament in town...a world tournament. It means that all the cheaper hotels have been all booked up with the out-of-town contestants." Roy smirked triumphantly as he blocked Edward at each turn. There weren't many options left now anyway.

"I'm _not_ sleeping on the couch. It's a fucking love seat!" Edward said in rising panic. "I need to have a _good_ night sleep! How the hell am I supposed to do that with you in the bed! I got to worry all night long about staying on my side and not rolling over to yours! What are you trying to _do_ to me?"

"I didn't say you had to sleep on the couch. It's a king sized bed after all. No need to get all worked up," soothed Roy. Blocked again. He had to fight with himself to not smile at how dismayed Edward was looking.

So...Edward had even gone that far in his relationship with this Russell fellow, eh? Well, he was a man after all; it was silly to think that he wouldn't have slept with his...boyfriend... Roy felt puzzled over labeling that man Edward's boyfriend. He didn't like it... The word was...too familiar for Roy's liking. He felt puzzled at himself as well, and he didn't like the implications that brought with it.

"I—I'm not..." Edward stuttered, and searched Roy's face. "Did...did you...plan for this?" asked Edward hesitatingly.

Roy just looked at him like he had just said the stupidest thing in the world. "Now, really. Do you have such a low opinion of me that you think I'd do something like this? Come on, Edward." Roy frowned down at the younger man. Edward flushed deeply, looked away and at the sidewalk for a few moments before he looked up at Roy again, who was patiently waiting for him to respond. "Well?" Roy raised an eyebrow at Edward.

"Fine, so you didn't plan this...but don't touch me," said Edward prudishly as he brushed past Roy on the way to the hotel, making Roy chuckling at his back. Edward looked over his shoulder with a questioning look.

"That's fine, but you can touch me if you like," joked Roy, smirking at the splash of pink that comment earned him. Yes, it really was nice to tease Edward and provoke him into those expressive emotions.

"I should pound you for that, Mustang!" said Edward, only sounding half-serious that he would. Rolling his eyes, Edward turned back around and continued down the sidewalk with Roy a step behind. After a moment of silence, Edward spoke up as he slowed, allowing Roy to catch up with him. "You know, you're not like what I thought at all."

"How's that?" wondered Roy.

"Well... I never really noticed but you're—sometimes, really nice," said Edward softly.

Roy laughed, making Edward smile shyly. It was so unexpected to be getting the olive branch from Edward. But even as Edward offered up peace, he slapped him unknowingly in the face. 'Sometimes, really nice'... Roy chuckled, and shook his head.

"I don't think I've ever heard you laugh this much either. It's nice," confessed Edward, smiling a little wider.

"But I'm not as nice as Winry?" wondered Roy. Edward hadn't talked about her all night, and he was sure the younger man would have. She was his 'love' after all. According to what he knew of Edward's infatuation with Winry, he should have been talking about her all night, so why hadn't he? Maybe he didn't feel comfortable talking about Winry to him, her brother. Or maybe he wasn't thinking about her any longer...? Maybe his plan was working...

"_No_ one's as nice as Winry, not even Winry," said Edward with a dreamy look on his face. Roy had never been so infatuated with someone that he would ever look like that just by thinking about them. What would it even feel like to be enamored with someone like that. Roy had never concerned himself with what he deemed 'a silly crush and a waste of time' when he was in school. He missed out on a lot of those things...

"Tomorrow's going to be hell," remarked Edward, drawing Roy from his musings. "Look, if we're really going to share...a...um...room. Well...can you...um...wait till I'm asleep?" Edward wouldn't meet Roy's gaze as he asked this making Roy smirk again.

"That's not a problem. I've got a lot to catch up on anyway. So, sleep in peace," said Roy, and lightly patted Edward's shoulder. Edward hummed his agreement and they covered the remaining distance to the hotel in companionable silence.

--To be continued--

Well, there it is XD hope you enjoyed that!

And now...maybe...review? -puppy dog eyes-


	15. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

Thanks to ZaKai once again! Always there to be a kind ear! Oh, and thanks for betaing, too!

**Chapter 14 **

Edward practically jumped out of the limo when it stopped in front of the hotel Ling and the guys were staying at, ignoring Roy's call to wait for him as he hurried into the lobby, looking around for a familiar face. The man had sat closer then he had to the whole way over, making Edward nervous and shifty in his seat and all he wanted to do was get some breathing room for a moment. He could hear Roy's tread across the marble-like floor, and tried to _not_ pay it any attention.

"Eddie! Hey, man!"

Edward looked over at the excited shout to see Rick jogging across the lobby to tackle him in a bear hug, trapping his hands down by his sides. He grunted as Rick continued to squeeze his arms into his sides and didn't show any sign of letting up. "Fuck, Rick! Ugh, can't breath!" groaned Edward, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Need help, Edward?" asked Roy at his left, to which Edward could only groan some more.

Rick looked over at the stranger and seeing the expensive looking clothing, let Edward down to the floor. Edward sagged and bent over his knees as he let the air back into his lungs. "Hi, my name's Rick," he said, thrusting out his hand at Roy.

"Pleasure to meet you Rick, my name's Roy Mustang," said Roy, giving Rick's hand a brief pump before letting go.

"Mustang, eh?" said Rick, giving Edward a knowing look as he stood upright. Edward quickly glanced away, and hoped he wasn't blushing too much. All the guys knew that he liked Winry, and that she was a Mustang. It was only natural that Rick would become suspicious.

"Eh—heh, ah...Rick...so...um...where's everyone else?" stammered Edward, forcing himself to look back at his friend. He could see Roy looking between him and Rick with a puzzled frown and he felt his cheeks getting even warmer.

"They're in the lounge, waiting for you. Come on," said Rick, leading the way to a room off the lobby. He turned back when he noticed that Edward wasn't following him. He tilted his head in Edward's direction.

"Be there in a sec," said Edward. Rick nodded, looked at Roy and then continued towards the lounge. Edward eyed Roy pensively and then sighed. "Are you _sure_ you want to come along? It's okay if you have a lot of stuff to do for your work. Really, there's no need for you to come along," said Edward one last time.

Out of the blue, Roy announced over breakfast that he was coming to watch after learning his plans for the day. No matter how Edward tried to convince Roy not to go, it didn't sway him at all and he kept insisting that it was okay; he was coming. He had tried and tried to make Roy change his mind, but nothing he could think of worked. Rick's reaction only served to prove how strange it would seem for him to suddenly show up with Roy in tow and he was hoping to dissuade Roy somehow, but so far he'd had no luck. This was his last chance to try and convince Roy to go do his own thing for a while.

"Edward," said Roy, moving to stand in front of him, and placing his hands lightly on Edward's shoulders. Blushing hard at having Roy so close, Edward forced himself to meet Roy's level gaze. He could feel the warmth from Roy's hands on both his shoulders making him more aware of their presence there. His gaze flickered down to Roy's mouth for a moment then up to his eyes.

In the middle of the night, Edward had woken up to find that Roy was asleep in the bed and had turned towards him. He didn't know how long he had just lain there and stared at Roy's sleeping face but he found himself noticing things. Things like Roy's slack mouth, which he stared at for a long time, wondering if they were as soft as they looked since he couldn't really remember how they felt when Roy had kissed him. All he remembered from that one kiss was the way the pressure from his lips didn't go away for a long time afterwards.

He found himself memorized by the way Roy's hair fell into his eyes and spread out on the pillow. He couldn't help himself, in the darkened room, Roy's hair became even darker and an insane urge suddenly made him want to touch Roy's hair. He began to wonder if he shouldn't try and do so now while he had the chance, making his heart beat hard under his ribs. He had slowly reached out across the king sized bed, even shuffling closer when he fell short of his goal, so he could fondle the hair on the pillow. The small section of hair that he touched was very fine and soft, softer even then his own. He made a mental note to see what brand of conditioner Roy used, because he wanted his hair to be as soft as this.

As he had played with Roy's hair another section fell into his face. Edward debated with himself for a long time if he should move that or not, and finally he decided that he should. He stretched his arm out a little more and moved it aside. And then Roy moved, rolling over onto his back with a sigh. It had freaked him out so bad that he'd retreated to his side of the bed and rolled over so he couldn't see Roy any longer.

It had taken him a long time to get back to sleep after that. He had spent part of that time trying to figure out just why he had been scared of Roy as a child... They had more in common then he'd thought and it was surprising to him that they _hadn't_ gotten along as young boys. They both enjoyed eating good food and good conversation. Roy, surprisingly, loved jazz and Edward had told him about the time he'd sung for his friends. If nothing else, they had grown up together, lending a familiarity that Edward was sure he wouldn't have felt towards anyone else if it was someone he had met for the first time on the street. But before he could come to a conclusion as to why they never clicked he had fallen asleep.

"What?" demanded Edward, getting frazzled when Roy continued to just stare at him. Roy's hands on his shoulders seemed to burn through his t-shirt and he shifted his weight, but stopped short of stepping out of his hold. He breathed deep, inadvertently drawing in Roy's cologne, and fuck didn't it smell good!

Roy... Somehow that man had worked his way into his thoughts and wouldn't leave him alone. It didn't help that the more time he spent around him, the more he came to actually _like_ him. And then there was the way they had shared the bathroom in the morning as they both got ready... Even through his annoyance at his loss of sleep he couldn't help but notice how easy it had been to walk in and out of the bathroom regardless of whether one or the other was in there. That wasn't something he had even done with Russell. It seemed like such an intimate thing between couples, not something near strangers did. Russell and him just didn't go that deep...so, what did it say about him and Roy that it didn't feel weird at all? So, just like last night, his heart pounded hard against his ribs as Roy just looked at him, holding his shoulders.

"Edward, I'm going. Just get used to that, and stop asking me if 'I'm sure', okay?" Roy finally said.

"You're going to give me a panic attack, you know that?" said Edward softly, reaching up to gently remove one of Roy's hands off his shoulder. "Let's go before they all start speculating on what's taking us so long." He couldn't—wouldn't believe it. He was _not_ falling for Roy.

Except...maybe he was...

* * *

Leaning on the chain link fence, the wind lifting his hair, Roy watched as Edward, Rick, and Leo moved through their sequence for one last time. He was more then impressed with all the boys' abilities. They made it look so effortless, when Roy knew, he _knew_ that he would never in his wildest dreams be able to make his body do the things Edward was doing.

The empty field they'd found behind the hotel had been deserted when they started, but when Roy looked around him now, he saw a few interested individuals had stopped and were watching Edward and his friends do their mock battle. Even some of the half-heard comments from the spectators were following along Roy's line of thinking; these guys could move.

This morning had been quite amusing for him. Edward had woken up a bundle of stress that hadn't gotten any better when he informed him of his plan to watch. But Roy took every opportunity to make sure Edward remanded aware of his presence even going into the bathroom as Edward brushed his teeth and braided his hair. It had been on the tip of his tongue to offer to do Edward's hair for him as he watched him pull the comb through his long hair again and again, but he stopped himself.

He had never given much thought to his private life, but being here with Edward, knowing what he did about how his sister looked at the Hughes' boy made him wonder again if maybe he wasn't missing out on something that others seemed to find with less effort then he did. The few affairs that he had in the past were always very careful and reserved on his part and he didn't feel comfortable around his partners for very long, usually breaking it off before it could even begin.

There had been times in the last few years when he'd been really close to telling his mother about his sexual preference but always at the last moment he'd backed off, not wanting to burden her with his personal problems. He didn't even consider telling Winry about this, to afraid of the ridicule he'd be subjected to as a result. Even without being told directly, Roy knew that Edward had had a freedom to explore a side of himself that he'd never have. As a CEO in a high profile company, with an image very different from his personal life, a scandal of this size could throw the company into chaos.

Being here with Edward like this was dredging up all sorts of things Roy had buried long ago and making him face them whether he wanted to or not. Maybe it was time to revisit his earlier plan to hide his sexuality from the business world and his family; it was becoming too hard to hide anymore.

"Roy!" Blinking to bring himself out of his daydream, Roy looked over and saw Edward standing in the middle of the field. "Come here!" shouted Edward, waving his arm at him with a smile. With a grin that felt slightly forced, Roy pushed off the chain link fence and causally walked towards where the guys had been practicing.

"We're all done," said Edward as he neared. Roy had noticed that the other guys had seemed to be putting their equipment away. "I thought...if you're interested, I could show you some self-defense."

"Ed, man, I keep telling you," Leo quipped. "You suck at self-defense."

"What? Weren't you listening when I told you about that guy at the party? He totally attacked me and Winry," returned Edward, turning back to look at Leo who was giving him a disbelieving look. "I really _did_ put him in an arm lock!"

"You said he was drunk. It's no wonder you were able to defend yourself," Rick said, entering the fray. Ling nodded, but didn't say anything.

"Roy was there! Roy, tell them what I did!" demanded Edward, turning back to Roy, who was standing at his side and watching the unfolding argument with a more genuine grin then before.

"Well..." he began, looking down into Edward's hopeful face. It crossed his mind to tease Edward a bit in front of his friends but he decided against it. Edward looked really cute, pleading with him using only his eyes. He didn't want to ruin that look. "It's true, he held the guy in an arm lock until the cops could come and take him away in cuffs."

"See! I _told_ you!" snapped Edward with a pout. Roy's grin got a little bit bigger when he saw that.

"Wow, no shit, really?" asked Leo, looking awestruck.

"What the fuck! You didn't believe me when _I_ told you?" accused Edward, turning back to Leo and glaring at him, making the guys laugh. "Ling! You believed me right?" asked Edward, turning to his as yet silent teacher.

"A teacher always believes in the abilities of his or her student," said Ling cryptically with a closed eyed smile.

"You guys are impossible, ya know that right?" muttered Edward, crossing his arms across his chest and thrusting out his lip even more. Roy chuckled out right at the sight of it.

"Edward, I'd be thrilled to learn some self-defense from you," said Roy earning a brilliant smile from Edward. This was working out even better than planned. It looked like his efforts this morning were paying off nicely. The more time they spent together, the more Edward would trust him and look to him.

"Alright! We'll just wait for these losers to take off or else I won't be able to show you anything," Edward said in a loud conspiratorial whisper at Roy.

"Yeah, Yeah," said Rick, smiling. He stood and pulled his bag strap over his shoulder. "We'll leave you two to your _date_."

"What! Date? Who said anything about a _date_?" demanded Edward, his arms flailing about his body. "This is not a date! He's here because he was kind enough to fly me out. It's not a date! I don't like him like that! He's just a friend! How many times do I have to tell you that before you listen?"

"Me thinks he doth protest too loudly, don't you, Rick?" asked Leo, looking over at Rick with a smile and a wink.

Roy had to agree with the boys' assessment. Edward was just a little bit too loud for it to be believable. Roy glanced over at Edward to see him turning a fine shade of deep red, and then he adverted his eyes so that he wouldn't have to know that he'd seen it. So, the boys have been saying some interesting things apparently while out here practicing. It made him really curious as to what sort of teasing Edward had to endure by him coming along.

"Oh, yeah! See ya, Ed!" said Rick, he began to walk away, grinning over his shoulder and waving. Leo grinned at Edward as well, winked again before following his brother off the field.

"Tomorrow at eight," Ling said with his eyes still closed. Tucking his hands into his long blousy sleeves, he calmly began to follow the brothers back to the hotel. "Good work today, Edward," Ling said just before getting out of earshot.

"You looked really good out there," said Roy, looking down at Edward's red face. He was glaring at Rick and Leo's backs, but when Roy spoke he looked up startled. "Feeling better about the competition now?" wondered Roy, ignoring the teasing and all its implications.

"Not really," Edward said after a moment. "Ah-ah! I don't want to think about it anymore!" Edward scrubbed his face and then ran his hands through his slightly messy bangs. "Come on, let's play around a bit. I don't know if there's anything you want to learn in particular?"

"Play around?" said Roy, chuckling. Edward was just giving him the opportunity to tease him on a silver platter. He was tempted...really tempted. But Edward just looked at him, and for all the world he seemed clueless about what he'd just said.

"Yeah, here look." Edward turned his back to Roy and stood in front of him. "So, say your the bad guy and you grab me from behind in a bear hug."

Roy smiled down at the top of Edward's head. "Why am I doing that?" he asked.

"I don't know...you're robbing me or something, does it really matter?" said Edward over his shoulder, turning to look at him. "Come on; arms."

"I just thought it'd add to the realism of this little exercise," said Roy, wrapping his arms around Edward's chest. Roy now had Edward's compact body lightly resting against his chest, and his smile slipped just a little. He could feel the muscles of Edward's arms move, and flex, and the wind carried the smell of his shampoo, reminding him of his conditioner. It smelled a lot better on Edward then he ever remembered it for him.

"No, hold me like this," said Edward. He took a hold of Roy's hands and made one hand grasp the other, rather then the loose way he had been restraining Edward. Now Roy had Edward's body resting more firmly against his chest. "Okay, now pay attention," instructed Edward, cutting through the blankness in Roy's mind. "Most of the time, when someone's going to grab you from behind it'll be some variation of this. So, to get out of it, I'm going to show you a basic distraction, and take down."

"Okay..." Roy said, all of sudden he wasn't sure that this was all that great of an idea. He vaguely knew that to learn self-defense it required you to practice it but that was in an intellectual sense. To actually do it was another matter. He didn't really enjoy doing physical sports while in school and he didn't see himself starting now...however, it was a good way to get closer to Edward... And he _was_ really close at the moment...

"First thing, in-between the bones of the hand, it's almost like a pressure point so, you're going to strike that area with your middle finger bent up like this," said Edward, turning slightly in Roy's hold to show that his fist now had the middle finger pushed out. "So, strike and then run that knuckle over the bones in the hand." Which Edward did, and Roy gasped, snatching his hands away.

"That stings!" complained Roy, rubbing the back of his hand.

"Yeah, it's good for that. Most people would pull away, and instant freedom," smirked Edward. "I didn't do it that hard, ya know. But anyway, from there you could do a lot of things, but for you, do this." Edward twisted his upper body around and faked an elbow strike to the face and then another on the other side to his ribs. "Lets have you do that much, and see how you do," suggested Edward, motioning Roy to turn around.

With a disgruntled frown, Roy turned around. He didn't think that learning self-defense should actually inflict pain. This was turning into a lot more then he bargained for. All he wanted to do was tease Edward a little bit, not get _hurt_. Edward wrapped his arms around his chest, and even through his disgruntlement, he could tell that he was trying to not touch him too much.

"Okay, heh, just...do like what I showed you," came Edward's voice, sounding for all the world like he wanted to get away. Well, it was _his_ idea to do this type of self-defense. Did he just figure out how compromising this was? Roy snorted softly to himself and thought that maybe this _was_ a good idea.

Edward shifted and Roy looked over to see him looking around his arm at him. "Are you going to do it, or what?" asked Edward, and Roy grinned. It really was too easy.

"Edward, I didn't peg you for the 'jump into your pants' kind of fellow," joked Roy. He laughed at the way Edward went from slightly rosy to bright red. "Look like that, and I might really have to jump you, you're so cute, Edward," said Roy with a smile, he lifted his arm over Edward's shoulder and pulled him in close to his chest, squeezing him to his side.

"Wha—I..." Edward pushed Roy away and looked down at the ground. "I didn't mean that. I didn't want you to think that I...er...wanted you."

"Come now, we've already slept together. We should have some fun don't you think?" said Roy, enjoying the play of emotions over Edward's face.

Edward's head snapped up so fast that Roy was sure that he'd get a sore neck later. "I got to go!" said Edward quickly, pivoting on the ball of his foot. Roy blinked in surprise, his hand automatically reaching out to grip Edward's upper arm.

"No, don't. I'm sorry, I went too far," said Roy softly, holding tight as Edward tried to yank his arm free with a growl. He couldn't let Edward leave. There was too much riding on this for him to leave.

"Let go," hissed Edward, his other hand began to pry at Roy's fingers. He shot an angry glare at him, his hand continuing to work at Roy's hold. "I don't want to like you; I don't want to be your friend. You're not nice, I _hate_ you. I've always hated you. Why can't you just leave me alone!" wailed Edward as he continued to work at Roy's larger hand.

"Edward?" Roy brought his other hand up and held onto his shoulder to keep him from running away. "You like me?" asked Roy. He could feel that Edward was shaking under his hands, but whether that was from anger or something else, Roy didn't feel like he could speculate. Not accurately, anyway.

"No! No, I don't like you, I _don't_!" Edward shook his head hard from side to side. "Let me go! I'll hit you, if you don't!"

Roy dropped his hands down to his side, and Edward took off running. How could he have so misjudged the situation? The guys banter had put him in a good mood, and he thought that Edward felt the same. Edward liked him, well...that was good. That was the plan after all. Roy picked up Edward's forgotten bag and let the strap rest on his shoulder. Thrusting his hands into his pockets, Roy followed Edward's hasty retreat off the field at a more leisurely pace.

Maybe, this wasn't a bad thing. Maybe, this was just the sign he needed to know that the merger was safe. They had two more days out here. A lot could happen in that time. It was too soon to think that he'd ruined everything.

* * *

Edward ran.

He didn't care that he was going to be lost and he'd have to find his way back to the hotel somehow... Where Roy would be waiting for him...? He didn't care that he could quite possibly be ruining his legs for the competition tomorrow. He didn't!

Why did he _do_ that...? Edward wasn't too sure if he meant Roy's joke, or his idea for self-defense. He just wanted to know...why that happened, why him, why Roy? Just _fucking_ why? Once again Roy was turning his insides into a royal mess. Just like when he left and had made his clumsy confession in Winry's room, and now he was doing it again. How could he do that so easily? Oh, well...yeah, he could do that to him because he was a wimp and had no friggin' backbone, that's why.

What did Roy think of him? Did he really think that he'd just jump at the chance to have sex with him? He...he wasn't going to do that... Winry...she...was attracted to him...but she had a fiancé. So whatever happened between her and him would only be fleeting at best...unless she cared for him. He wouldn't know that until he got back. How was what Winry wanted from him any different then what Roy wanted from him?

He didn't want to think about this, about Roy. He _didn't_ like him! That wasn't a lie. He knew how he felt about Winry, and he didn't feel anything like that about Roy. Why should he? Roy wasn't someone who he'd ever paid any attention to in the past because he and Roy had totally different ideas about life, about relationships, about everything. All Roy did was work and order people around, he didn't relax at all! He was the polar opposite. He did know when to play, when to follow a dream. That was the purpose of being in L.A., to show the accumulation of all his hard work.

Edward stumbled along the sidewalk he was running along. He had to hop quickly in order to catch himself and prevent going face first into the concentrate. Slowing to a stop, he drew in a shaky breath, placing a hand over the stitch in his side.

Oh! This was so messed up! He had two more days to spend here, and _with_ Roy, sleeping in the same bed and all. Well...maybe he'd try sleeping on the floor, or call down for a cot. All hotels had cots...they must! It's what he should have done in the first place. This was no way to be focused. Scar was going to be there, and he hoped that he wasn't going to be in the same division. He didn't have time to be thinking about all this other shit! He wanted to do well. He wanted a gold medal. He didn't want to think about Roy!

Now he had to find some way to get back. He didn't have his wallet, and he had no clue where he was. The drive from their hotel to Ling's had taken almost forty-five minutes in light traffic; which meant that he'd have a lot of walking to do. Looking around at his surroundings, he found a convenience store across the street that he could go ask for directions or maybe a hand drawn map.

Crossing the empty street, he opened the door to the store and located the owner behind the counter. After explaining his problem the man very helpfully sketched out a rough map for him to take. With his thanks, Edward opened the door and stepped back out into the sunshine. There, just in front of the shop was a limo with Roy standing by the passenger door, looking at him. He sighed and resigned himself to facing Roy even if he hadn't calmed down yet.

"Edward, I didn't mean to upset you. Everyone was joking around, and I guess I'm not very good at it. I just wanted to be a part of it as well. Please forgive me," said Roy somberly.

Frowning, Edward looked down at his feet for a moment, and then back up at Roy. He was still standing by the car door, and he was relived. If Roy tried to touch him right now, he really would hit him, and hard too. So...it was all a joke. That was good. Very good. He could deal with a joke. A joke wouldn't leave him all messed up inside.

"I wanna go back," said Edward, still watching Roy carefully. "I've got a big day tomorrow." He crossed the distance between the store and the car and looked down into the tinted windows, avoiding Roy's eyes.

"Hungry?" asked Roy. Edward nodded. He hadn't eaten since breakfast. "Then lets go," said Roy opening the door for him.

* * *

After going back to the hotel and getting cleaned up, they went out to an Italian place for supper because, as Roy said, carbohydrates were best before a race or in Edward's case a fight. Edward didn't have a lot to say to that, but he did agree. He felt awkward around Roy now. He wouldn't meet his eyes and he couldn't bring himself to say much to him. Their easy manner from before had fled in the face of Roy's bad humor, and Roy was trying so hard to diminish the unease they were both feeling.

There was no point in dragging this out. Roy had done nothing else to suggest that he was looking to sleep with him...other then just plain sleeping. He may have done some questionable things to him, like kissing him, and implying that he'd pay him off to leave Winry alone but after spending more time with the man, he was starting to think that perhaps Roy just had a really skewed sense of humor. It was time to let Roy off the hook and just move on.

"Roy," began Edward interrupting Roy's small talk. He lifted his gaze from his plate and watched as Roy fell silent, watching him warily. Probably wondering what he was going to say after having been quiet since he was picked up in the limo. With a sigh, Edward looked down at his half-eaten plate of spaghetti. "Roy, while your 'joke' was in really bad taste, I'm...I'm not mad at you. Not really. It's just that..." Edward frowned. "After you...kissed me...it just seemed like you were trying to use me. So, I'm sorry I was too sensitive." He looked up across the table and met Roy's thoughtful gaze. "Forgive and forget, right?" he said with a small smile.

"Yes, definitely," agreed Roy. "I actually was thinking you were going to forbid me from coming tomorrow, so I'm glad it's all sorted out."

"Would you actually listen to me if I told you not to go?" wondered Edward, raising his eyebrows. He was starting to feel the return of last night's easy manner, though it was more cautious on his part now.

"Probably not," said Roy with a snort.

* * *

"Sweet Jesus," cursed Edward softly as he took a step back away from the door. He came up short as he ran into a body behind him making it grunt in surprise. He could smell Roy's expensive cologne while he pressed up shamelessly against the chest behind him in his nervousness. He never felt such a strong desire to turn around and go home as he did right now, and he had to admit to himself that he was really, _really_ glad that Roy was with him right now. He was even willing to forget the incident from yesterday just as long as Roy stuck around.

"You okay?" Roy asked in his ear, placing a searing hot hand on his shoulder.

Edward could only stare at the nerve racking sight before him. He had to perform in front of...all...these... people? His eyes went wide in horror, and his stomach did an unpleasant sort of flip-flopping thing that made him want to heave. The large stadium sized building was filled to the rafters with both spectators and competitors. Goose flesh popped up all over his body and he shivered a bit as a result while his eyes danced around all the faces in the immediate vicinity.

"Hey," murmured Roy in his ear. Craning his neck around to see Edward's face, he was alarmed to find him quite pale and green looking. "Hey, none of that now," admonished Roy. Pulling his immobile body to the side, away from the door, Roy stood in front of Edward's face and blocked the area from his sight. Panic filled golden eyes looked up at him as though asking him to make it go away.

"Edward, this is no time for a panic attack. Pull yourself together," said Roy. He placed his hands on the blond's shoulders and locked his gaze on Edward.

"All the tournaments I've been too...they were never...so many people..." mumbled Edward, leaning to the side to look at the crowds.

Roy pressed his lips and sighed. He ran a comforting hand up and down Edward's uniformed covered arm. "Edward—"

"ELRIC!"

Both Roy and Edward startled and looked towards the source of the shout. An impressively built man with a vicious looking scar covering most of his face was stalking them like a predator to its prey. His sleeveless white martial arts uniform barely contained his muscular body. The messy mop of white hair on the otherwise shaved head seemed to stand out all the more due to his dark tanned complexion, and his large tribal tattoo, encasing the whole of his right arm seemed all the more menacing as he neared.

"Not _him_," hissed Edward so that only Roy could hear. "Fuck off, Scar! I got nothing to say too you!" he said loudly enough to carry across the entry way. Curious people looked between the two, but continued towards the interior of the arena.

"Scared are you? I don't blame you," Scar said with a slimy smile. He stopped in front of Edward with his feet planted shoulder width apart and crossed his muscular arms over his chest.

"Yeah, right! I'm not scared of a yellow coward like you!" spat Edward. He could feel his temperature rising as he felt adrenaline pump through his body in anticipation of a fight.

"That's not how it looked at the last tournament. You flew through the air quite spectacularly, and after that you couldn't do anything." Scar leaned in close, bending down to Edward's height to look him in the eyes. "That must be quite a blow to your big fat ego, eh?" Edward narrowed his eyes at the face in front of him in hatred.

"Hey, why don't you save it for the ring," interrupted Roy, reaching out to pull Edward back a step and out of the man's personal space. Although Edward moved as Roy directed, he didn't break his eye contact with the man.

"Got a bodyguard now?" sneered Scar, looking disdainfully up and down at Roy's prissy, expensive looking clothing. "What? Didn't want your other fairy anymore, so you got another one, Elric? I thought fags were too girly to want to do something that reeks of testosterone, and yet here you are, trying to prove your manhood, or is that womanhood?" said Scar, dismissing Roy as insignificant, he returned his scornful gaze to Edward's. "You'll be happy to know that the tournament officials have done away with weight class. It appears that there wasn't enough competitors for multiple divisions."

Edward felt his stomach drop down to his toes at this. He'd have to face Scar...it was always a possibility but he had hoped that it wouldn't come to this. Scar had pretty much crippled a fighter from England at the last, horrible tournament. Edward had watched the fight after loosing his own match with mild interest. Scar had so much power that the other fighter quickly became overwhelmed. At one point the English fighter was more or less out, but on his feet. Everyone could see this, but the ref didn't call it and so the match continued.

Scar had reached out and gripped the uniform of the other man and started pummeling him. In the face, in the gut, in the ribs, never allowing him to fall, and still the ref didn't call it. The crowd, him included, had started to shout and cry to the ref to wake up and call the match already. Scar had enough points to win several times over; there was no reason to continue. Not until after the three minutes were up and the match was officially over did the referee finally pronounced Scar the winner.

The inquiry into the referee's actions was still on going.

The resulting confrontation between Scar and Edward was something that still made Edward seething mad to this day. Scar pushed all his buttons, making him see red. He had lashed out and caught the man unawares with a solid punch to the kidney, making the older man stagger. Before Scar could retaliate, Edward was being pulled away by Rick and Leo while Scar had another team of guys latch onto him. There had been bitter blood between them ever since.

"Well," said Edward with more confidence then he really had. "I hope you don't fail too miserably to me. I know that you shouldn't lose face with your teammates."

"I won't be the one losing face, _Edward_." Scar dragged out Edward's name making it sound derogatory. Edward grit his teeth. "Just be sure to keep your fagot hands to yourself, Elric!" Scar said as he walked back into the crowd.

Edward fisted his hands down by his legs, and shook. He wanted to hit something _so_ bad right now. With a low growl, he turned into the crowd, leaving Roy to follow behind his lengthened strides.

"Er...Edward?" asked Roy hesitantly.

"No! Don't ask. Not now," growled Edward as he stalked though the arena. Where the fuck was Ling and the guys? "I can't believe that I have to face Scar. How fucked up is that?" he mumbled under his breath. He crossed the tournament floor, heading over to the competitors rest area.

"Edward, wait. Look, isn't that your teacher?" said Roy, pointing off to the side. Edward immediately changed directions and headed towards Ling. There had to be something they could do about this before he had to face that man in the ring.

"Ling!" yelled Edward, his voice carrying over everyone else's. His teacher turned away from the man he was talking to, and looked over his shoulder at him. "Ling, I'm so screwed!"

* * *

"Hey, Roy. You came again, eh?" asked Leo as he took a bit of wall on Roy's left and looked up at him.

"Yes, I'm watching in place of Edward's father," replied Roy. He only spared Leo a quick glance before looking back over at Edward and Rick as they helped each other stretch a few feet away.

"Ah, well that's good."

"Leo, what's the story with this Scar fellow?" wondered Roy after a few quite moments between them, looking side long at the young man next to him.

Leo sighed heavily and folded his arms across his chest. "He's a friggin' nightmare. We might all have to face him later today. Rick's pretty relaxed about it, but then that's just how he is. He never—"

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Leo broke off what he was saying and looked towards the middle of the arena floor. Roy hissed in annoyance. He wanted to know what the deal was with that angry looking man, and he didn't want to have to wait to hear about it, but there was nothing he could do. The noise level in the venue went from muted chaos to a charged and loud conversation, but the announcer didn't let that stop him for he began to talk over it all.

"Welcome to day two of the world mixed martial arts competition hosted by Hugo sports equipment. We will begin in the third ring finishing with the junior black belt division, moving onto the adult color belt in the first and second rings, and the adult Black belt fights starting at five. The choreograph fights will be held in the ring one and two starting at one. From two to three we will hold the broad breaking, and high kick competitions in the first available ring. Any questions please see your nearest event coordinator for more details. Now, let us begin. Junior black belts to the third ring."

Young people began to move out of the waiting area towards the third ring. Roy watched them momentarily and then shifted his eyes over to where Edward was sitting.

"Yeah, so Scar is totally bad news. Last time we ran into him, he almost killed his opponent," said Leo, drawing Roy's attention back to the boy beside him.

"What? Shouldn't he be expelled from competing or something?" wondered Roy, incredulously.

"It's still under review last I heard, but the kicker was that Ed attacked Scar and sucker punched him, and ever since they've been posturing and spitting at one another. I think today will be the day."

"For what?"

Leo pressed his lips and looked over at Edward still on the ground with Rick, stretching. They both watched as Edward laughed at something Rick had said. "Look at him," said Leo, gesturing at Edward. Roy turned away from watching Edward to look at the young man beside him. There was a strange high pitched quality to his voice now that made Roy worried. "He's totally faking. He's scared shitless." Leo paused and swallowed. "And for that matter so am I."

* * *

Edward stepped to the center of the ring, his legs feeling tense and wobbly at the same time. Scar smiled at him from outside the ring, his arms crossed across his chest again. The referee had to give Scar a warning when he didn't immediately step into the ring, meaning Edward automatically got a point up on him. When Scar stepped onto the foam mats, he smirked at Edward.

"Fag," hissed Scar under his breath, while they both made a mockery of the formal bow to one another.

Edward could feel his anger bubbling within him, making his body itch to start moving and lash out. He'd never had anyone say things like this to him at all during his time in Paris, so it was brutal slap in the face to have Scar call him that, and by association he called Roy one too. Roy hadn't even come out yet as far as he knew and it angered him anew. Roy was a proud man and wouldn't take to being pushed so forcibly.

For Roy, he'd show Scar his place and knock him down all the way to the bottom. The ref slipped a red scarf under his black belt, but Edward had only eyes for the man across from him. Scar's lips were moving but Edward no longer heard the litany of profane words coming out of his mouth. He was slipping into a zone-like place where he worked best. It was where he just moved and became surprised when the match was over, because he hadn't noticed.

The referee held out his arm between them and Edward shifted into his fighting stance. Scar was going to learn a valuable lesson today. One that he'd carry with him for the rest of his life.

--To Be Continued--

-sits up straight- Review? -tail wags happily- XD


	16. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

Thanks to ZaKai for reading, betaing, and goading me on!

In case you don't realize it, I've gone back in time slightly. Just a heads up, so I don't get all those "What about Scar?" questions.

Also, I want to apologize at the lateness of his chapter. I've have Real Life in spades and it's been distracting me from being able to write anything more then a few sentences. Those of you who follow Light, I'll be updating there as soon as I can! Thank you all for your patience!!

**Chapter 15**

Roy watched the tournament officials with a critical eye. They obviously knew what they were doing, and they did it well. Competitors were shuffled from one ring to another with an efficiently that he wouldn't have attributed to something of this nature. They did their job so well in fact, that he was thinking that his company could branch out into the sports industry, and maybe use this organization as a launching pad. He got so caught up in watching the volunteers scurry about and planning a future venture that he failed to noticed Edward approaching from his left side.

"Hey," said Edward, plopping down into a vacant chair one row behind Roy. He leaned forward and rested his arms on the back of the chair in front of him and peered over at Roy.

"What's wrong?" wondered Roy, leaning back into his chair so he could look Edward in the eyes easier. He took in Edward's neatly braided hair and the pinched look around his eyes. At first glance he seemed fine, but as he looked deeper, the signs of stress were evident.

Edward frowned at him. "How do you do that, by the way? You always seem to know that something's up."

"I just happen to be a very observant man. I noticed that you came over, practically fell onto the chair there, and now you're draping your body over this chair as well..." Roy shrugged. It wasn't that hard to do really, and he utilized this skill daily at work.

Edward grunted at his explanation and folded his hands out over the bucket seat he was leaning against. Roy followed the movement with his eyes and saw a slight tremor as they dangled near his arm. Running his index finger over his lip, Roy frowned as he tried to think of some way to ease Edward's anxiousness. They were only two hours into this and would have three more hours yet before the boys would have their first competition.

"Are you stuck here?" Roy asked suddenly, dropping his hand from his face, and twisting in his seat to look back at Edward.

"No, not really, but I shouldn't go too far. Why?" wondered Edward, sitting back in his seat and placing his hands on the arms of his hard plastic chair. Roy noted that he was unhappy with this. He wanted Edward to stay close to him. He only had two, maybe if he was lucky, three more days to convince Edward to forget about Winry.

"Let's go out and walk around a bit. Being in here is just making you more tense," said Roy, nodding his head at the exit off to the right. Most people weren't paying that particular exit any mind, so there was no reason that they couldn't slip out unnoticed. "Come on." Roy reached across the rows and patted Edward on the arm, and then stood. "Come on," he urged again, when Edward just looked up at him quizzically.

With a large, self suffering sigh, Edward rolled to his feet and smiled at Roy. "Fine, since you asked and all," quipped Edward.

"That's the spirit," said Roy, sliding his hands into his pant pockets.

They walked side by side to the exit and out into the early morning sunshine. The area around the venue was landscaped with trees, low benches, and pebbled walkways. Roy led them around the perimeter of the building until he found what he was looking for—a tree that was out of the way, on a small hill of grass, shading them from the early afternoon sun. Leading the way, he sat down on the cool shady grass slope. Edward came close, but instead of sitting with him in the grass, he just stood over Roy and glanced over his surroundings; even at the clouds. Anywhere as long as it didn't mean looking at him.

Roy snorted, and shook his head, drawing Edward's attention. "What?" asked Edward, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

"Nothing," said Roy, folding his hands behind his head and lying back on the grass. Through the tree branches he could see the sparse, fluffy clouds drift by on the warm wind. He wouldn't be urging Edward to sit with him, not after what happened yesterday, and not now that he was on edge.

He once saw a TV show about cats and what to do when you brought a new pet home. On it they suggested that the new owner leave the cat alone until it was comfortable and came to the owner, rather then the owner forcing the animal to come to her. Somehow, Roy thought that it applied nicely to Edward. When he got tired of standing in the sun, he'd sit down; and when he got tired of sitting, he'd lie down. He had barely finished thinking this, when he saw Edward move over to the tree and start to scale the bark like a monkey.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?" yelled Roy, sitting upright and looking over at Edward's rear end disappearing into the foliage. Jumping to his feet in alarm, he hovered under the branches, making himself ready to catch Edward should he fall.

"I'm climbing a tree, what's it look like?" came the distracted reply.

"Yes, but why?" wondered Roy, feeling baffled, and at a loss. How was he supposed to connect with Edward when he was in a _tree_? There was no way that he'd be climbing up there with him just so they could bond. Roy shook his head in wonderment and sighed.

"It calms me. That was the point, wasn't it?" asked Edward. Roy looked up to see him tucked between two branches, and giving him a knowing look, one eyebrow raised at him.

"Of course it is," agreed Roy quickly, making Edward smirk.

"You could come up here," suggested Edward. His tone made Roy think that Edward might be testing him somehow.

"I think not," said Roy softly. He crossed his arms across his chest and looked up at Edward blandly. Test or no test, he was not about to ruin his clothes climbing trees.

"I used to love climbing trees," remarked Edward as he looked off across the perimeter of the arena.

"I know," said Roy, dropping his eyes to grass and sighing. "I was there to see the results of your many attempts." Really, he had been scared more then once due to Edward's pastime. Looking out his bedroom window, his homework momentarily forgotten, to see what the commotion was all about, and seeing Edward covered in superficial blood and screaming his head off. Then he had to watch as it was determined whether a hospital visit was necessary or not.

"Heh. Yeah, good times," joked Edward.

"Hardly. I had a heart attack each time you did something foolish. I swear if I turn gray early, I'm blaming it all on you," said Roy, pressing his lips in annoyance, and looking back up into the tree. Didn't Edward realize how frightening that was?

"Really?" wondered Edward, meeting his gaze with a lift of his eyebrows.

"Of course, what do you take me for? I care," said Roy with a hint of petulance that he hoped Edward didn't notice.

"But...I don't remember you being like that at all. All you ever did was yell at me to stop being a kid and act my age, but the fact was I did act my age—I was a kid."

"So I was worried about you, is that such a bad thing? True, I may have over reacted sometimes, but it was only because I cared!" Roy glared up at Edward, who seemed taken aback by his intensity, but he really had been worried, and it wasn't fair for Edward to belittle that.

"I'm sorry," said Edward softly. "I didn't realize." Edward shifted on the branch and faltered as he tipped too far on one side. He had to scramble to grip the trunk behind him and a branch near his chest so he didn't fall.

"What are you doing?" demanded Roy. He could feel the blood pound behind his ears as Edward righted himself on the branch and had the decency to look apologetic for the close call.

"I'm...going to come down," answered Edward, as he slowly stood on the branch he'd been sitting on. He wobbled again, but was able to hold tight to a branch overhead.

"See? This is what I'm talking about," said Roy angrily. He stood under Edward, and held his hands up. "If you fall, I _will_ have to punish you."

"Ha ha, yeah right—" Edward began to say, and then did the one thing that would guaranteed Roy's heart to stop.

Edward fell.

Roy didn't even have time to blink before his arms were full, and Edward's body smashed into his chest. Roy crumbled to the ground, the air leaving his lungs in a forceful expulsion. He gasped and tried to breathe, but he couldn't. Edward groaned and shifted off of his chest, which helped but not that he could actually breathe yet.

"Roy! Roy, oh shit! I'm sorry, Roy. Just relax. It's worse when you try to fight it," said Edward, brushing the hair off his face and bending over him. Roy rolled away from him onto his elbows and knees.

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't get air into his lungs. He couldn't breathe! He knew that Edward was touching him, holding his shoulders, but he didn't care! Why couldn't he inhale? Why couldn't he exhale? He needed air! Minutes _had_ to be going by, and he wasn't breathing. He needed air to breathe, to live! He couldn't breathe!

"Slowly, slowly. I know you're panicked, but you _will_ be able to breathe, just relax," said Edward, his voice cutting through his panic. "Don't force it, just relax." Roy could feel Edward's hands on his shoulders, holding him, and slowly, just like he said, Roy began to breathe normally again.

"I'm sorry, Roy," said Edward, and then he did something Roy wouldn't have hoped for this soon in his plan, he laid across his back. "I'm sorry. That was really dumb. Please don't be mad."

Roy sat back on his heels, making Edward sit up as well. He looked Edward over expecting to see scrapes and blood, but there was nothing. He was fine. He was on his feet before he knew it and gripping Edward's arm tight. He yanked him up right, and forced him back towards the tree.

"Roy?" asked Edward, hesitantly, his other hand braced against his chest, but he made no move to stop him. Edward back peddled quickly, looking scared, and he should. It had scared him, as well.

He continued to push Edward back until his back ran into the tree trunk, and then he smacked his other hand, hard against the tree right beside Edward's ear making him flinch, leaning in close he growled, "I told you...to be careful." The hand on Edward's arm squeezed harder.

"I—I'm sorr—ow, that hurts, Roy," complained Edward half-heartedly. His free hand covered Roy's and he looked down to tug at his fingers.

"Look at me!" demanded Roy. Edward looked at him wide eyed, sinking back into the tree. He no longer tried to pry off his hand that was biting into his flesh. "I don't want you to ever, and I mean _ever_, do something like that again. Do I make myself clear!"

"Yes," said Edward in a small voice. He bowed his head and would no longer look at him.

With a grunt of disgust, Roy released Edward and walked a few paces away. Pinching his nose and frowning, Roy mentally slapped himself for being so reactive. If he had been thinking straight, he could have milked Edward's feeling of remorse until everything was finished with the merger, but no, he had to let his frustration run away with him and scare the boy. Now... When they went home, Winry would shack up with Edward for a few weeks, maybe a month or two, and Roy would be out millions of dollars with no one to blame but himself.

So far, ever since Edward had come home it was one mishap after another. First Winry breaks her ankle, and pronounces that she may be in love with Edward, then when he tried to 'woo' Edward in the solarium, he got punched. He loses a day because Edward slept in. To the sharing of the bed, down to his humor being taken too seriously. Really, everything that could go wrong had gone wrong.

"Damn..." cursed Roy under his breath. He couldn't even bring himself to look back at Edward to see how bad things had been ruined.

* * *

Edward sagged against the tree and stared at his feet. There was a reason why he had avoided Roy as a child, and he just showed him that there was still a reason to fear. Roy was _very_ scary. Rubbing his arm to ease the ache where Roy had gripped him, he struggled to keep himself under control. His fear and embarrassment over doing something so stupid and getting yelled at for it made him feel remorseful.

He hadn't _meant_ to fall out of the tree on Roy. He hadn't meant to hurt him. He—it was an accident! Roy didn't have to hurt him back or get so close to his face. But...but Roy had caught him as he fell. He had gotten hurt because he fell. Roy had probably saved him from getting hurt as well. He could still compete because Roy had caught him.

He looked up at Roy's wide back, saw that he was holding his face, and even heard him curse softly. Without knowing what he was going to say to Roy, he pushed slowly off the trunk and took one wobbly step after another until he was standing behind Roy, who had yet to turn around at the sound of his approach.

Taking a steadying breath, he reached out and placed his hand on Roy's shoulder. He could feel Roy tense up immediately, having not expected it, he was sure. Letting his hand fall to Roy's bicep, Edward pulled him around to face him. The crease between Roy's eyebrows as he turned to face him was just another indication that Roy was still pissed at him.

He didn't remove his hand from Roy's arm as he forced himself to look up into Roy's face. He could feel the muscle contraction though his shirt, and once again, he could smell his expensive and distracting cologne. "I'm sorry," Edward said softly. "I promise I won't do that again." Roy shifted his weight, tilting his head to consider his words.

He didn't say it out loud, but he hoped Roy would know that he really didn't mean climbing trees. He really meant that he wouldn't frighten Roy like that again. Although admittedly, Roy had frightened him as well.

Roy reached across and covered his hand, the heat from his palm searing him. It took him off guard that Roy's hand was so warm—hot. It made him gasp and all he could think about was being in Roy's arms back in the solarium and getting kissed. He was taken aback at how he suddenly wanted very much to kiss Roy again.

Roy's hand gently patted his, while Roy's eyes caught and held him mesmerized. "I should hope not, Edward," said Roy softly after a few quiet moments. All Edward could hear was how it rumbled through Roy's chest, and his eyes drifted down to watch Roy's lips as they moved into a small smirk.

Roy had always yelled at him as a kid, but since going away with Roy this time, he found a totally different side to the man. He had cared for him...since when they were younger. Was that why Roy always followed him around and tried to talk with him? Couldn't he have just said so all those years ago? It would have saved him a ton of torment.

"I wanna kiss you," said Edward suddenly, then gasped. He said that out loud, didn't he? He looked up from Roy's mouth into his eyes and saw that, yes, he had said that out loud.

He met Roy's shocked gaze with his own. He could feel the blush rising from somewhere below his thick cotton jacket until it had to be right up to his hair line. Then a strange look over took Roy's features and the hand covering his cupped his too warm face. The thumb on his cheek stroked back and forth a few times and then Edward was pulled in close.

Roy held him tight to his body by wrapping his arms around him. Out of instinct, Edward settled his arms around Roy's waist without breaking eye contact. He swallowed thickly, his eyes darting from one side of Roy's face to the other, but Roy did nothing other then watch him. Well, he had said that _he_ wanted to kiss Roy... Unwilling to wait any longer, Edward went up on his tip toes and brushed his lips across Roy's.

A thrill of excitement went straight to his stomach and then lower when Roy caught his bottom lip. One of Roy's arms pulled him even closer to his body while the other found its way into his hair, tilting his head to the side. Roy quickly took over the kiss, opening his mouth, and thrusting his tongue inside.

Edward groaned. This wasn't like anything Russell and he had ever done. This was just a kiss and he was ready to rip Roy's clothes off. Every inch of Edward's body felt more alive, more _here_ than he could ever remember. Those fingertips pushing through his braided hair fisted and pulled his head back, leaving Roy to take full control. Oh shit! This was so intense, so... He grunted in shock as his back hit the ground. When did that happen? Who cares... Roy's other hand pulled free from beneath his back and began to pull his uniform apart at the neck. Roy's hand pressed against his exposed chest, moving down to his nipple to pinch and pull.

"This is why I hate fagots!" Edward pushed Roy away like he was on fire, and sat up embarrassed. "They fuck where ever the hell they want with no regard for normal people. May God strike down you sinners," said Scar, his tone one of utter contempt.

"Scar?" said Edward with a frown, tugging his uniform back into place. He knew that he was red, embarrassed at getting caught. He felt like a total idiot for kissing Roy. What on earth was he thinking about? He shot a nervous glance at Roy seated beside him, then turned his attention back to Scar. He could deal with Scar right now. He wasn't too sure about Roy.

"I was watching you fags, and I couldn't take it any more. For the moral health of the people attending this event, I had to step up and do something about it." Scar's shades slipped down his nose, revealing his intense blood red irises, and he crossed his arms over his wide chest. Scar was literary looking down his nose at them.

"People? Watching!" squeaked Edward, feeling even more mortified. People had seen him?

"There was no one around, Edward," said Roy, obviously exasperated. With him or with Scar? Edward looked over at Roy again. He was glaring at Scar who stood at the edge of the grass.

Suddenly, Edward was pulled forward by his braid onto his hands and knees. The pebbled stones stung horribly. With another yank, Scar pulled him forward at his feet. Scar jerked his hand, pulling his hair taut, twisting his head around so that he had to look up into Scar's face looming above him.

"Ugh, let go you fucker!" cursed Edward at the face leaning over his. He gripped the base of his hair so that it wouldn't feel like it was about to be pulled from his head. Somehow his demand amused his attacker, because he smiled an oily smile at him, and it just made Edward madder.

"Stop this right now, or I'll call the police!" said Roy in a voice that demanded obedience. Edward couldn't even look at Roy with how Scar was holding onto his hair; he couldn't look anywhere except at the angry face over him. But he was angry too, and if Scar didn't let go soon...

Slowly Scar raised his face to look at Roy. "Don't think for one minute that I don't know who you are, Mr. Mustang," drawled Scar, emphasizing Roy's name. "And if you call the police, I will have to tell them about your indecent exposure. There are a lot of kids about today."

Edward glared at the underside of Scar's chin, wishing he wasn't restrained, because he'd sure as fuck teach this guy a lesson. He was trying to blackmail Roy? No way would he let that happen. Roy wasn't even 'out' yet.

"And taking violent action against someone due to sexual preference is aggravated assault," returned Roy without missing a beat.

Edward grimaced as the hand in his hair clenched tight. The way Scar was holding him, he couldn't attack back. He was perched on his knees, about to fall forward. The only thing keeping him from smashing his face on the path was Scar's hold on him.

"You're boyfriend doesn't seem to want to see you hurt, fairy," said Scar, looking back down at him. That fucking oily smile was back.

"He's...not...my boyfriend!" growled Edward and instantly regretted it. Any ammo he gave to Scar would only come back and bite him in the metaphorical ass later.

"Oh?" Scar pulled upwards on his hair, making him scramble to get his feet under him. Scar leered at him, making Edward's stomach roll in disgust.

"Let him go this instant!" demanded Roy again. Edward looked over at Roy, and saw that he was also on his feet and looking livid. All of it directed at Scar.

"Your boy toy doesn't seem to like me," whispered Scar in his ear, making him hiss in revulsion. He would have moved his head away...but, well, he couldn't at the moment. "Since you two aren't together, how about sucking me off, eh?" (1) suggested Scar, his other hand reaching for his groin.

"Oh, hell NO! Get your skanky mother to suck that little thing you call a dick!" shouted Edward as he caught Scar's wandering hand, and pushed against Scar's chest with the other, but he went with him as he stepped back, so it defeated the purpose.

"Edward!" shouted Roy.

Scar pulled on his head, making him arch his back, and then kicked out his feet from under him. He landed on the pebbled concrete with a pained grunt. A sneaker covered foot landed heavily on his chest, knocking the wind from him. He squinted up at the man over him, gripping the shoe with both his hands. Leaning over his leg, Scar sneered at him. "Fairy, if you so much as dare to face me in the ring, I will make you watch as I fuck your fagot boyfriend and then do you! Got that!"

Scar shoved his foot against his chest once more, hard. Edward grunted as the air was forced out of his lungs once more, and then Scar strolled away. Edward took a shaky breath, amazed that he had gotten out of that in one piece, and could only blink up at the blue sky above.

"Edward? Edward, are you alright?" Roy asked, bending over him. Roy lifted his head from the ground while looking him over for any damage.

"Roy!" Edward sat up quickly and looked over at Roy. "I'm sorry! Now he knows about you."

"What?" asked Roy, clearly puzzled about the change in topic.

"That you're gay. I'm sure he'll tell other people," said Edward. This could ruin Roy's companies, and it would be all his fault. Suddenly he was quite glad that he was in the same division as Scar, this way he could teach that son of a bitch a real lesson.

"I'm not concerned about that right now. How are you?" asked Roy, standing. He held out his hand for Edward to take.

"I'm fine, of course. But that fucker! Damn it, he's going to pay for doing that!" cursed Edward. He gripped Roy's wrist and hoisted himself to his feet, looking down the path that Scar had taken. Yeah, he would be the one to show Scar up. For sure.

* * *

The venue was quite nosy as they re-entered through the door they had left from. The colored divisions were well into their matches. Edward had gone quiet as soon as he had entered the building, leaving Roy to follow behind him.

He could hardly believe what had happened in such a short period of time. Roy was elated at how well Edward had moved beyond his mistrust for him, and somehow turned it into something else. Something that Roy could work with. Edward had initiated physical contact with him, even initiated a kiss. A really, really, good kiss at that! He hadn't been prepared for it, but had been so taken up with the intensity of that kiss, that if that guy hadn't of shown up, who knows where it could of ended up between them.

His phone began to vibrate within his pant pocket, and as he strode behind Edward, he fished it out. "Mustang," he barked, placing the phone up to his ear. "Mother?" He stopped dead, and watched Edward continue on without him. Just as well, she was probably looking for an update, and he didn't want to be overheard. Moving away to a semi-quiet corner on the edge of the arena, he looked around to make sure no one of consequence was around to overhear him.

"It's better than plan... Oh, yeah... He's very affected, yes... He kissed me... Mother, mother...Pinako! We don't have a choice. Millions of dollars are riding on this. We can't stop now... How's Winry... She's got one more day of medication? Okay, well, we'll be back tomorrow...yeah, that's right. By then I should have convinced Edward to go with me to Paris, and then I'll be on the next plane out, and we can put this whole thing behind us. Yes, Alex should have set up the apartment and bank account by now...yes, in Edward's name...yes...yes...I better go now...okay, bye."

Roy clicked the phone shut and stared at the device. With a sigh, he put the phone back into his pocket and wandered back into the crowd. Well, it was getting late. It should be almost time for the boys' first event, and despite all the other things riding on this, Roy really did want to see Edward perform.

* * *

Edward stood alone in the middle of the crowd. He could feel the weight of their stares coming from all sides, and a hush descended. It was time...

Gripping the sword tight in his left hand, Edward raised his arms up, shifted his weight, stepping out with his right foot. His right hand went under his left and made a half circle so that his right hand was now hovering over top of the sword hilt. He transferred the sword over to his right hand and pointed the tip at the ground.

Twin yells suddenly ripped though the crowds, making Edward's head snap up in surprise. People turned and looked around, wondering what was happening. Rick and Leo burst though the spectators and brandished their weapons at Edward. Rick was holding two short kali sticks, and Leo had a broad Chinese sword. There was a twitter through the crowd as they understood that this was part of the routine and not someone causing a ruckus.

Edward grinned hugely and glanced between Rick on the right and Leo on the left. Both of his assailants were twilling their weapons and eying him with well acted malice. Leo lunged first, slicing the air with his blade and aiming for his head. Moving his head out of the way, Edward raised his sword and brought it up underneath Leo's downward stroke, deflecting it away from him. Rick was on him immediately, forcing Edward to retreat. He ducked and weaved through Rick's attacks, and when the opening came, he thrust his sword point up through Rick's arms and grazed his hairline. With a shocked gasp through the crowd, Rick stumbled back, looking startled.

Leo was back and pressing Edward to move around their performance area. Flashes of metal became blurs as they became faster and faster with their attacks and parries, and then Edward leapt backwards under Leo's slash to his stomach. As he arched backwards he brought up his sword and made the metal ring as he deflected the blade meant for his stomach, and pushed himself upwards to land back in front of Leo causing him to stumble back in awe.

Edward glance over his shoulder at Rick, who was standing there with his kali staffs at the ready, and his jaw hanging open. He rushed away from Leo, and turned his attentions to the dumb-struck man. Edward lunged, the point of his sword heading straight for Rick's throat. Rick moved, not as fluidly as Edward but still graceful in his own right. Suddenly Rick was inside Edward's space, and he jabbed him in the stomach, making him bend over. Rick stepped back then, and Edward leaned to the side to avoid Leo's downward strike from his blind spot. He kicked out behind him at Leo's ribcage, and brought up the sword to deflect Rick's twin attack.

Now they were both on Edward, making him weave and bend into impossible contortions. His sword rang and echoed with their blows. At one point as he bent backwards and he was blocking another attack from Leo's sword, the tip of his own sword came around in a circle and almost clipped his nose. Not quite to plan, but it must have looked cool if the crowd's response was any indication.

They were near the end now. Edward moved towards the middle of the mats in preparation for the finale. Leo spun around, going low and for his legs. He jumped upwards and spun in mid-air, his leg extending and aiming for Rick's head. He dodged his kick, and Edward tucked his head and rolled away from them, coming up on his feet. Now, it was time for him to finish the routine.

Bracing himself, he launched forward, his sword held ready at his side. But then something went wrong, and not to plan at all. Edward's eyes widened as he knew he was going to fall. Knew it because something had caught on his ankle. Knew it because the floor was rushing towards his face.

It happened so fast; he just had time to bring up his free hand to shield his face. Something other then conscious thought took over and Edward used the momentum to roll forward, stopping between Rick and Leo. There was a stunned pause between all of them, and then Edward spun on his heal, keeping his center of gravity low to the ground. He kicked Rick's legs and then Leo's, toppling them to the ground. He sprang up and snatched up Leo's sword. He whipped his sword tip so it hovered under Rick's nose, and with Leo's sword, he pointed it at the owner.

His gaze was on Leo. He jerked his head slightly at him, trying to signal him to get up, but he didn't seem to understand. Edward looked at Rick and did the same, and thankfully he understood going by the look on his face. Edward pulled both swords back and flipped them over so they lay along the back of his arms, and stepped back.

Rick and Leo stood as well, coming in line with Edward. They turned as one and bowed to the judge's table. They backed out of the ring, and bowed once more.

The crowd was going wild around them. Now that he had the chance, Edward looked toward the corner that had tripped him up and saw Scar standing there with his shades pushed up high on his face. He couldn't be sure, but he would be willing to bet a lot of money that Scar was glaring at him.

That bastard was trying to ruin his performance? This was so much more then simple posturing for the fight. This was turning into a grudge match on a whole different level.

"What happened?" asked Rick. He moved and in doing so he blocked Edward's view of Scar.

"Yeah, you were supposed to do that flip-thingy," said Leo beside him. Leo took his sword back from his loose hand, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Let's go...away from here," suggested Edward. He turned away from Scar, and pushed his way through the crowd. He neither knew nor cared if they followed him; he just wanted to get away from those eyes. Slipping around a group of people, he spotted Roy in the crowd and changed direction to meet him.

"Roy," said Edward, pulling on his arm. Roy turned and blinked at him.

"Ah, there you are. What happened at the end there? I was waiting for your big finale and it didn't happen," murmured Roy. He lifted his arm out of Edward's grip, and placed it about his shoulders, drawing him close.

"Scar happened," grumbled Edward, unconsciously leaning into Roy's embrace. He stopped then, making Roy stop as well. "I'm so going to pound him for this. It's one thing to have hate on for your opponent, but sabotaging me in an unrelated event? That's just beyond low."

"I agree. Why don't you report him?" asked Roy, rubbing his arm as he spoke.

"It wouldn't do any good," grumbled Edward. It really wouldn't, and he didn't want anyone to think of him as cowardly by saying something before the match started. If he got caught, well then, that'd be a different story. But he wasn't going to be the one to turn him in. Plus Scar's other altercation was still under review. People would be watching him carefully, which means no one saw what he did during their routine.

"Ed, don't take off like that!" complained Leo. With the guys' arrival, Roy's hand dropped away from his shoulders.

"Sorry," said Edward flatly, turning towards his teammates.

"Ya going to tells us what was up with the ending?" asked Rick.

"Scar tripped me," said Edward, his voice heavy with annoyance.

"What!" hissed Leo. "That's...that's..."

"Yeah," agreed Edward, saving Leo from trying to finish that sentence. They all fell silent. Edward sucked on the inside of his cheek, worrying over the upcoming fight, and wondering if he really had it in him to face Scar one on one, and have any chance to win. He just hoped that it was him that faced Scar and not Leo. Leo didn't have the skills to be even close to beating Scar. Not at his current level of skill.

"Hey," whispered Rick, slapping Edward on the arm and nodding at the crowd. Edward looked up and saw Scar standing fifteen feet away, and watching them. The crowd seemed to be giving him a wide berth, and with his shades on it was hard to tell for sure if Scar was _really_ looking at them or not.

"This is ridiculous," said Roy suddenly. "Why do you insist on not doing anything about it? Just say something—_I'll_ say something, if you won't!"

"No! No, you can't," said Edward, breaking eye contact with Scar, and looking up at Roy.

"Why not? He's harassing you—hell, he's harassing me. He's even assaulted you, if you care to remember. If we tell the organizers, then I'm sure they'll ban him—"

"That's the point," interrupted Edward with a frown. His hands swept out to the sides, and gestured to show that Roy had it all wrong.

"Yeah, man. If you say something now," added Rick. "It's like we're running away."

"We can't run away," said Leo, letting his shoulders slump.

Roy sighed and ran a hand over his face before looking hard at Edward. He met Roy's gaze evenly, and wouldn't look away. He was right about this, dammit! He looked over again at Scar, who had yet to move from his spot.

"I won't be intimidated by that asshole," vowed Edward. Scar smiled at him. That slimy, vile smile of his that made Edward hiss in response.

"I don't understand why you want to pursue this so much," complained Roy. "If I were you, I'd just have him eliminated so that—"

"Roy, this is not about a business merger, where you only need to outbid your competitors," interrupted Edward. "This is about honor, and pride, and standing up for what's right. This is about how you treat other people. Like how you treated Maria on the flight over. You wouldn't even let her talk. You do the same to me. You bully me into accepting your hospitality, your hotel choice. Hell, if you had your way, I'm sure I'd be the one following you around on your business meetings, rather then you following me."

"I'm not _following. _I _want_ to be here." Roy stabbed himself in the chest. "And how did this turn around and become an attack on me?" asked Roy, frowning slightly.

"I'm not attacking you; I'm just saying that you don't really listen to anyone. It's your way, or not at all," Edward said with a shake of his head.

"Now wait a minute—" began Roy.

"Um, guys," Leo interrupted hesitantly.

"I did not _bully _you into coming. I was going this way, I heard about your misfortune, so I offered you a ride. That's in no way being a bully," said Roy.

"Edward, I don't think—" tried Leo, looking at a loss. Edward saw Rick place a hand on Leo's shoulder out of the corner of his eye.

"Oh, yeah. Right. You didn't bully me at all," said Edward sarcastically. He folded his arms across his chest and glared up at Roy. "And for your big fat information, I will be paying you back for all of this. I don't take free rides."

"Well, for your 'big fat information', I was happy to do it!" said Roy loudly.

"Yeah? Well, fine! Why should I care what makes you happy? It's no skin off my nose if you want to be nice or not," said Edward, hotly.

"You know, it happens! I am a very nice guy, and if you didn't spend your whole childhood running away from me, you'd have seen it a lot sooner," said Roy, narrowing his eyes at him, and pulling his lips back in a sneer.

"Well, if you'd just leave me alone for, like, two bloody seconds, I might have come around," spat Edward, glaring up at Roy in silent challenge.

"I highly doubt that. You were the shyest kid...ever!"

"Well, whose fault was that? Every time I was forced into one of your lessons with you two, who was it the teachers pick on, and made feel like I wasn't worth the dirt you guys walked on? Me! I became your example on how 'not to do something'. Is it any wonder I turned out the way I did, when I learned those kinds of lessons at your fucking feet?"

"Ah, here you are," said Ling, smoothly interrupting the growing argument with a serene smile and closed eyes. "They're about to announce the winners, if you care to listen."

Edward closed his mouth with a click of his teeth, and blinked. How had telling Roy about why he had to fight Scar turn into a fight between _them_. Roy had a shocked, kind of aghast, look on his face and wasn't blinking at all, just sort of...looking at him...strangely... He looked away, and then back again, and away. Roy wasn't doing anything. He was just standing there.

He looked to the side at Rick and Leo. Rick shook his head at him, and gave him a sympathetic look while Leo wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Come along now," said Ling. He placed his hand on the small of Edward's back, and pushed him towards the judges table behind them.

Edward looked back over his shoulder to see if Scar had seen all of that, and thankfully he was no longer there. But at what point did he leave? If he saw them fighting, would he somehow use that against him later in the ring? Ah, shit! Why was it turning out like this? This time was supposed to be his time to show off a little, and be recognized for his abilities, but no, he had to deal with Scar; Roy and kissing...it was all a mess.

Ugh! And he did not need to think about that kiss! Because, he couldn't figure out why he _had _kissed Roy like that. And wow, did Roy ever kiss back! It wasn't until he was back inside and had calmed down somewhat, that he was able to remember just how great that kiss had felt. He hadn't been aware of anything but Roy until Scar spoke. That had never happened to him. In fact, when Fletcher had mentioned something similar happening to him when he was with Riza, he had scoffed at his friend for being a hopeless romantic. The whole time leading up to their routine all he could think about was that he really wanted that to happen again.

Edward looked back over the other shoulder, wondering if Roy had followed them or not. He frowned. He couldn't see Roy anywhere. But that didn't really mean anything. The crowd was closing in as the results were about to be given out. Even if Roy had been there, he wasn't sure what he'd do, or say to the man after how he had just acted. He knew that he should apologize, but...but how could he do that? Just the thought of having to look at Roy after what he'd said made him squirm in unease.

_So don't need this, so don't need this_, chanted Edward. Ling pushed him towards the front of the crowd. The other team fighters were gathered around the three sides of the ring, with the judges on the last side.

"You attention please," the announcer said, mike in hand. He moved towards the middle of the ring and raised up his free hand. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are about to announce the winners of the adult choreographed fight division."

Edward thrust his thumb in his mouth and began to chew on his nail in his nervousness. Thoughts about Scar, Roy, and his performance, warred inside his head for dominance, and no one was coming out on top. He watched warily as someone carried over a slip of paper to the announcer, and left. The paper was opened, and quickly scanned.

"In fourth place, Team Alaska." The crowed cheered, and clapped as Team Alaska walked out into the ring.

"In third place," he paused, letting the suspense grow just a little. "Team Argentina!" The crowds became more enthusiastic as Argentina walked into the center. The judges shook hands with each of the members before placing a medal around their necks.

"For second place, team...Turkey!" They walked into the ring amongst cheers, and whistles.

Edward's stomach was going to empty right here, and now. The suspense was agonizing, and yet, he didn't want it to end. That was their last chance to win. If someone else was called... There was only one more spot. _Please, please, please, please...let us win_, chanted Edward, biting his nail hard.

"And for first place, the team that made the most impressive display of ingenuity, and creativity for their routine..."

We had that. We were ingenious. No one else had a routine like ours...

"Team France! Edward, Rick, and Leo!"

Edward blinked. He wanted to ask the guy to please repeat that, but he was being pulled into the ring by Rick on one side and Leo on the other. In a daze, he shook the judge's hands, accepted his medal, and took the forefront to accept his accolades from the crowd.

What a crazy day this had been so far. Edward smiled at the crowd, and found himself looking for a man with black hair, finding him directly on his right. Roy was clapping, smiling, and looking very pleased with how he'd done in the competition.

Maybe he _would_ be able to talk to Roy later and smiled at Roy.

--To Be Continued--

(1) I just wanted a wee note here to address this comment. Scar has indicated that he hates 'fags'. So, why would he threaten this? Sometimes sex is used as a weapon. Even when someone hates 'fags' they still might force that person into a sexual activity as a form of dominance.

I really had too much fun writing this chapter. It should be illegal...but maybe you could suspend my jail time, and offer up a review instead! It only took this long to come out because the middle needed some work and as I've said, Real Life came for a visit!

**EDIT (MARCH 22, 2008)** Due to FF's meddling, all my scene cuts have been erased... I am not pleased. This means I have to go back and change them all!!


	17. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

Thanks to ZaKai for reading, betaing, and goading me on!

Those of you who aren't reading my other works won't know this, but Real Life is kicking my ass and seriously eating into my writing time. I haven't given up on any of my fics and I continue to work on my stories as time or inspiration allows.

**Chapter 16**

Edward pulled his bag towards him and positioned it for his head when he lay back on the floor. He covered his face with his arms, and just tried to relax. But that was like asking him not to breathe. Each passing second brought him closer to five o'clock and the start of the black belt division fights. That, in and of itself, was hard enough to deal with, but Roy had gone missing, and he hadn't been able to find him anywhere.

Not that he _cared_ about where Roy went. It didn't matter to him. Not at all! He didn't really even look for him... Only, he had wanted to talk to him about his outburst. Well, really it wasn't an outburst. Those were things he had wanted to say for a very long time, but had never been brave enough to do so. He had even decided long ago that he would never say them. It was behind him so why bring it up. He had shocked himself by saying that now and in front of his friends too. He was even more shocked at his bitterness.

He was sure that his outburst had hurt Roy. The strange look he had gotten as a result of his attack played with his conscience, making him feel guilty for having told the truth. He could only guess what was going through Roy's head right now...wherever he was.

Where _had_ he gone anyway...?

Then there was Scar, the bastard. Always hanging around and putting him on edge; watching him. He was pissed off that he had witnessed him and Roy kissing outside. He was pissed that Scar had said those derogatory things about him—and Roy. He even threatened Roy by calling the police for making out with him! Several times in the last hour he had seen Scar from various parts of the side lines, watching him, always with those glasses on so he couldn't be totally one hundred percent sure that Scar was looking him or not.

Edward went cold at his next thought. What if...Scar told the public about Roy's sexual orientation? He knew that the snap-aparazzi would follow him around, making stuff up. They did it often enough to Winry. That would be the worst way to be outed in Edward's mind and if there was any way that he could make it so that Scar didn't pester Roy... The only thing he could think of would be to beat him, but even then there was no guarantee.

Edward lifted his arms and looked up at the wall, checking on the time once again. Two more hours. That was all the time left before the start of the black belt division. His stomach did a slow roll at the thought. Oh, god... He was going to be sick, he could tell. He was getting the worse case of nerves that he'd ever had.

Roy, Scar. Scar, Roy. The two men interrupted each and every thought Edward tired to have, and he was getting sick of it! Why couldn't he just focus on clearing his mind of all this clutter? It was to the point now that he wasn't even sure of himself, he wasn't sure that he could win. He couldn't visualize the win, and he'd always been able to do that.

His stomach rolled again, making him clench his teeth to hold the contents down. If he was like this two hours out, what state would he be in when the competition started? This was not good. Letting his arm fall down to his side, Edward shakily got to his feet and headed towards the nearest bathrooms. His stomach rolled again, adding urgency to his feet.

He stumbled into the closest stall, letting the door slam shut behind him. He looked into the toilet bowl, and felt his mouth start to water unpleasantly. He swallowed, hoping that he was wrong about wanting to throw up. God, he hated throwing up. It was so gross and... Edward leaned over the bowl and retched, and retched again. He didn't have much in his stomach to begin with, but... He spit into the water and pulled some toilet paper off to wipe his mouth.

"Fuck," groaned Edward. He shakily pulled the handle and tried not to watch the contents of his meager breakfast go down the drain. The aftermath of his nerves left him feeling weaker then a kitten and dizzy, too. His stomach continued to make its displeasure known, and any half formed thoughts about leaving to lie back down were abandoned. He just hoped that he wouldn't be stuck here for the next two hours.

* * *

Scar paced up and down the isle between the upper tiers of seats, beneath the lights angled down to the center of the arena. The nosebleed section of the venue was empty making it a perfect place to vent in peace.

His tattooed arm flexed as he gripped the cell phone tight. He had expected it to ring five minutes ago, and each passing second made him more on edge. There was nothing he could do about it either. He was stuck here. He _needed_ to be here. That's what he kept telling himself. When he won the championship—and he _would_ win—he would get a sponsor and then he would have the money.

His phone suddenly started ringing. Numbly, he looked down at his hand clasping the device, watching it light up. Instead of answering right away, he hesitated. His future rested with what he found out from the other end of this call. It rang again and again. On the fourth ring, Scar depressed the answer button and slowly brought it up to his ear.

"Yes..." Scar told himself to breath as the speaker on the other end told him his future. "How much time does she have?" He listened intently, frowning. "I don't care what you have to do," growled Scar into the phone. "I want you to make sure she stays alive...I can't lose her too... I _will_ have the money."

He ended the call without another word and quickly dialed out again. His heart thudded up hard against his chest; his hands shook as he pressed the buttons, his mind strangely blank. He lifted the phone to his ear and it was immediately picked up before the first ring even finished.

"Hello, grandmother...yeah... The doctors are going to take her into surgery soon...I've told you before that it was a gamble...If I win, yes...I'll be sponsored then, and I can pay for her medical bills... This is a good plan, grandmother, you just worry about your foster kids, and let me take care of my daughter... You're in another state, what do you think you can do?... I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that... Yeah... Uh-huh...uh-huh...I will, love you."

Scar let his hand fall back to his side and looked down at the floor below, unseeing. Somewhere down there, a kid with long, blond hair and immense skill was standing in his way; blocking his attempts to save his daughter. He was using every trick he could think of in order to unnerve the boy as much as possible so that he wouldn't have to do much come fight time.

There was a scuff of shoes behind him and he whirled around in time to see someone's shadow moving down the stairs. He frowned and contemplated going after whoever it was that dared to eaves drop, but... On any other day, he would have. It was probably just some kids looking for a place to hide for a while. But today, he'd be saving all his fight for one Edward Elric; the one man that could stop him from saving his little Nina.

* * *

"Ed! You in here?" Rick yelled into the bathroom.

Edward groaned in response. He was sitting on the floor with his face buried in his arms. There was nothing left in his stomach now; but it was still turning over, and making him feel queasy. His stall door suddenly slammed open, but he wasn't ready for the pain when it smacked him in the forehead and the shins.

Belatedly, he remembered that he should have locked the damn door. "OW! Rick!" shouted Edward, pushing the door back towards his friend with a crash.

"Oops," said Rick sheepishly from the other side. He opened the door slowly and peeked around into the stall, smiling apolitically at him. Edward just glared up at him, wishing his evil upset stomach on him in revenge. Rick reached in, offering his hand. With a sigh, Edward used Rick's hand to pull himself to his feet. "Let's get you some ginger ale; that always helps Leo whenever he's ill," suggested Rick, letting his hand go and moving towards the bathroom door.

"Okay," agreed Edward. He swayed on his feet and had to hold onto the stall frame for a minute. It seems he got up too fast for his knees wanted to fold under him.

"Geez, you're in rough shape," said Rick, as if there was any other shape he should be in.

"You're real bright, aren't you?" Edward said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. He was both annoyed at being bothered and glad that someone had come to find him. "Have you seen Roy 'round?" he asked when the blood rush to his head faded. He looked over at Rick, standing beside him. Even under his dark skin, Edward could tell that Rick was also nervous for the last part of the tournament.

"No," Rick murmured. He moved away from the bathroom door when another competitor entered the washroom averting his eyes as the newcomer went over to the urinals. "Did he say anything to you?" asked Rick softly so he wouldn't be overheard, looking Edward in the eyes.

Without answering, Edward went over to the first sink and turned on the cold water. Where had Roy gotten off to? Did he leave? He had said he wanted to watch... Scooping up some water in his palms, he slapped his hands onto his cheeks, went back for more water, then drank out of his palm. He swished the water around his mouth, then spat it back into the sink.

After all that fuss Roy had made about coming to watch, and a little verbal fight sent him packing? How could Roy just give up so easily? Maybe what he'd said had _really_ hurt Roy more then he was letting on. That made finding him all the more important; it needed to be soon, because in only a little while he'd be too caught up with the competition to leave.

"Are-are you guys..." asked Rick, hovering by his shoulder and whispering. Edward met his curious gaze in the mirror, raising an eyebrow. "Well...you know," hedged Rick.

Edward frowned. "Are we what?" He shook the excess water from his hands into the sink and turned off the tap with his elbow.

"You know..." Rick paused, looking side long at him. _"Together,"_ hissed Rick. He had the grace to at least look embarrassed to be asking him this.

"Why?" wondered Edward, buying time to gage just what Rick's opinion would be. Rick and Leo hadn't even batted an eye at Russell and him being together, but the way he had bad mouthed Roy over the years, he wasn't sure what Rick would think—even though they weren't together, he still valued his friend's thoughts on the matter.

"I don't know. I was just wondering," said Rick with a shrug of his shoulder, looking embarrassed about having brought it up.

Edward looked down into the sink basin, watching as drop of water rolled down towards the drain. "No, we aren't," he murmured. Swallowing hard, Edward began to replay the kiss in his mind. There had been such intense surge of feelings when they had kissed that he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to sort them all out.

"It's just that..." began Rick, hesitating. The other person in the washroom finished up, washed his hands, and exited the room, but not without shooting a curious glances their way. As soon as the other competitor left, Rick turned back to Edward, a concerned look in his eye. "Leo and I have seen you grow from a shy teenager, into a confident person. Russell was good for you; he helped you. And though you never said anything to us directly, we know how hard it was for you to get over Winry. I worry that maybe you're going after Roy as a...replacement?"

Edward lifted his eyes from the basin to look into the mirror. Rick met his searching gaze, unapologetic in his worry. He silently considered his friend for several tense moments. It was...possible...that he was somehow trying to replace Winry with Roy, but Winry wanted him...as far as he knew, she still did. But could he really ignore how over the course of three days, Roy was taking up more and more of his thoughts?

With a sigh, he looked back into the sink basin, closing his eyes. He couldn't believe that he had actually kissed Roy, on the lips, _willingly_. What had possessed him to want to do that? He should be staying as far away from that man as possible. He had always scared him as a child; and as well as he might like him now, he should remember that Roy had been ruthless in the past, both in his personal and business life.

"I'm sure he's around here somewhere," offered Rick, watching him with concern, sounding like he was sorry he had ever asked in the first place.

Edward glanced at him and then away. He knew that Rick was just trying to be nice, even if Rick didn't understand why it bothered him so much. Both Rick and Leo hadn't pestered him at all for an explanation as to why Roy Mustang was here with him, following him around—being friendly of all things, when they both knew about all the bad things Edward had said about Roy on many occasions in the past.

He remembered how both Rick and Leo had expressed outrage at his treatment at the Mustang's hands whenever he opened up enough to tell them. But upon seeing Roy the other day, there had been only a quick meaningful glance between Leo and Rick, and then nothing. They just accepted that Roy was now 'with' him, as a friend or otherwise. He suspected that he caused a few more wild speculations after his blow up in front of them at Roy. He didn't even want to imagine what they thought of him, let alone Roy, now.

"Let's get that ginger ale," said Rick, coming forward to throw an arm around his shoulders to lead him out of the bathroom.

And what did Ed make of Roy now? Twice now they had kissed... There was tension there, but was it tension from mutual attraction or was it due to his own feelings towards the Roy he had known all his life—or thought he knew. Could he be over thinking this? Maybe Roy was just flirting with him in some way. Flirting didn't always have to mean anything. Damn, it was so confusing!

How come Roy couldn't just come out and say that he liked him, because why else would Roy have kissed him that night at the party. If Roy liked him, it painted a whole new picture of the man. Roy had said that he cared about him, and that would explain why he had always followed him around. But as a kid, he had never understood just what that meant. Being an only child didn't really make it easy for him to suddenly have a shadow in the form of a teenager. Maybe if he had some brothers or sisters he'd have understood.

"Yeah..." he agreed softly, letting Rick pull him away from the sink and out of the bathroom. There was a lot they needed to talk about, and he just hoped that Roy would listen to him out long enough to sort out this mess.

* * *

What started out as a quick phone call to make sure all his plans for Paris were finalized, turned into an hour and a half conference call with Maes, his mother, and the board of directors for his company on the finer merger points that had Maes baulking once again.

Roy had tersely commandeered a bathroom near the back of the arena. The two boys he found hanging out in there were kicked out with a few stern words and a dark glare and then he locked the door to prevent anyone from walking in on him.

"I know that, Maes," said Roy softly, trying to keep his voice from echoing around the empty bathroom. "I thought all this was settled before I left...I'll be back in a few days...it's just a business trip..." Roy sighed as he listened to Maes's voice. He didn't seem to want to accept his reasons for leaving so suddenly and kept prying. Maes was being very paranoid about the whole thing, dropping small hints that so-and-so company had approached him about a buyout. These poorly veiled threats were starting to wear on him and his patience.

"Talk to Pinako if you still have concerns; she'll show me when I get back...Maes, I got to go. I'm late for an appointment," lied Roy easily. He patiently listened for a few more moments and then reiterated the fact that he had another appointment before closing the phone.

With a sigh, Roy leaned into the counter top. Before everyone else had gotten on the phone his mother had asked again about Edward, and then asked about him _and_ Edward. He cursed himself then at his own stupidity. He should have never mentioned that Edward had kissed him as that would only raise questions about himself. And his mother had _many_ questions.

He had found himself unprepared to answer those questions. What did it mean that Edward had kissed him? She had wondered. Was Edward gay? Was _he_ gay? What was _gay_? Roy had snorted at that one, but his mother kept on grilling him. Did he ever have..._sex_...with men? Why hadn't he told her about this? It was a mortifying experience, one that he was sure to repeat as soon as he got home.

Pinako kept up with the relentless, embarrassing questions; on and on until thankfully, Pinako's secretary came into the office to tell her about the conference call. His call was linked into the other line, and he threw himself into the impromptu meeting for the distraction it offered.

Roy glanced at his watch. "Oh, shit!" he cursed vehemently. There was only fifteen minutes left before five o'clock. Just another 'high' point to an already crazy day. He was going to be late for the start to Edward's competition.

As soon as he thought he had all the many sides of Edward down pat, he found a new dimension that threw all his carefully gathered information out the window. Really, this should be made into a comedy of errors and put on Broadway in one of those shows he hated, because all his plans meant nothing to Edward. He created chaos, and didn't react like Roy thought he would.

Maybe Edward was angry with him for yelling at him earlier. He got the impression that maybe Edward blamed him for how he'd been treated on some level—both from earlier and in the past. He recalled how their teachers would seem to single out Edward and use him as an example, but he didn't detect anything other then a desire to help them all improve... But then, as teenager, he'd had thicker skin then Edward had at seven, so maybe having to always be singled out...

He pushed these thoughts away and hurried over to the door, releasing the deadbolt. As he made his way across the bowl of the arena, Roy's mind turned back to the fight he'd had with Edward and all the things he'd said to him. He had stood there stunned at what had just happened not even watching as Edward was pushed away by his teacher.

Roy remembered just standing there deep in thought until someone bumped into him. He had been so caught up in what Edward had said to him that he almost forgot that they were going to announce the winners soon. He had pushed his way through the crowd of people towards ring side so that he would be able to see Edward's face when he won and there had been no question in Roy's mind that Edward would win, even without doing the grand finale of their choreographed fight.

He had scanned the people around him looking for Edward, finding him with his teacher standing in the forefront of the waiting people on the other side of the ring. Roy watched Edward's body language, trying to get a read on what was going through that surprising mind of his. Edward was biting on a thumbnail, intently watching the judges while his teammates pushed through the crowd to stand near their teacher. Everything about Edward's posture suggested nervousness and anxiety and not anger. It could be that Edward was just as surprised at his outburst as he was.

Roy smiled to himself as he pushed through the crowd in his search for Edward and his teammates. If he hadn't of gotten waylaid by his mother's questions or the conference call, he could have been working on making Edward _see_ him over his sister. Roy shook his head at the whole situation. What had started out as a simple plan to get Edward away from his sister and out of the country, had spiraled out of control into…whatever _this_ was.

But even if Edward didn't look to him over Winry, he must still convince Edward to leave the country by the time they went back to New York. If he couldn't convince Edward to go on his own…he'd use force.

* * *

Edward chewed on his thumbnail while he watched the judges get ready for the last event of the tournament. A new podium style stage was set up in the middle of the floor with four lower rings around it. The tension in the people around him seemed higher, more intense. Inside, he was feeling sick again; the ginger ale suddenly no longer helping his stomach, but aggravating it.

His eyes swept around the crowd's edge, searching. Faces everywhere were pointed towards the podium in anticipation for the last event. But in none of those faces did he see Roy looking out. Roy was still missing, and he was starting to get pissed at the man. His anger at Roy warred with his anxiety and the result pooled unpleasantly in his stomach.

How could he just _leave_ like that? How could he! All he knew about the man, and admittedly it wasn't that much, would have led him to believe that Roy Mustang didn't run...from anything! He kept searching the faces around him, hoping that Roy's would somehow pop out at him. There better be an emergency back home, or something...or else it better be one helluva'n excuse to up and disappear like this.

Scar, thankfully, was nowhere around and seemed to be leaving him alone...for the moment, anyway. It made him a little bit nervous about what Scar could be planning for the match. If he had no problems about sabotaging his other event, he could be planning something for the sparring. But compared to the problem of finding Roy, it was secondary.

The lights went out all round the arena except for directly over the raised center ring and the announcer walked out of darkness and into the lights. Edward frowned and, rather then listen to the man talking through the microphone, he strained his eyes, continuing to look for Roy in the crowd. His task made difficult by the lowered lights.

His agitation was reaching an even higher level as the announcer droned on about the rules and how the matches were going to be decided. Of the thirty male competitors, one person would sit out the second elimination round, and there would be five rounds in total. The woman's division only had twenty-four competitors with someone automatically winning the third of four rounds.

With a sigh, Edward turned away from the stage and started to push back though the crowd to find Rick and Leo. The announcer began to call out the first round of matches. He was paired up with someone from South Africa for his first round, Rick with someone from England, and Leo someone from America. No one had gotten Scar right off the bat which was great.

Edward grabbed his bag, sitting alone on the floor, neither Ling nor Rick or Leo in sight, and headed off towards the event organizer. From there, he would know when he would fight and in what ring.

* * *

Edward performed magnificently for each match leading up to the semi-finals. Rick got eliminated mid-way, but that would be okay since there was still the two of them to potently get gold and a silver win. One of them _would_ be getting gold. They only thing in both their ways was Scar.

Scar had not been kind to his opponents. Two had left the ring with broken bones and one had left with a fractured nose. He was fierce in the ring and intimidating out of it. Each match brought the three of them closer to the time where someone would have to face Scar. Leo was becoming so freaked out by this that he almost lost his last match. It was kindly suggested that if Leo didn't get his act together, then he should bow out. Edward was the one to suggest this tactic; and by suggest, it was more like hurried hissing in Leo's ear to smarten up. Rick and Ling had been too stunned by Edward's behavior to do much else other then stare.

That was how Roy found them. They were all standing silently, looking embarrassedly at their feet. He could feel the unease and tension in the air, not just from Edward and the boys, but from everyone. It was because of this tension that Roy had found it very difficult to move through the crowd on the floor to get closer to Edward.

Roy only hesitated for a moment before he broke up the atmosphere by walking into their midst.

"Roy?" said Edward, startled. He looked up at him with wide eyes, giving Roy the chance to admire their unique color.

"Miss me?" asked Roy with a smirk, enjoying the way Edward's shock faded into annoyance. He really shouldn't enjoy teasing him this much.

"Yes, actually," hissed Edward, pushing Roy away from the guys. Roy raised his eyebrow at the other man as they moved away from friendly ears. "Where did you go?"

"I got caught up in a conference call," said Roy. It wasn't entirely a lie.

"Look, I'm sorry for what I said earlier. I mean, well not really sorry, but sorry, you know?"

Roy smiled uncertainly. "Not really..."

Edward sighed. "I don't have time to talk about this now, but I want to. Can we? Maybe...over dinner?"

Roy had to check himself from showing the triumph he was feeling from showing on his face. Once again Edward was surprising him. That, in itself, was a surprise; or perhaps he should say that it wasn't. Edward kept him on his toes with his unpredictable behavior.

"I would enjoy that," said Roy, managing to make his voice neutral.

Edward gave him a cautiously hopeful smile, and once again Roy patted himself on the back for somehow managing to make this work despite all the setbacks. "I got to go!" Edward informed him. He turned towards the crowds and disappeared.

* * *

Edward stepped to the center of the ring, his legs feeling tense and wobbly at the same time. Scar smiled at him from the edge of the mats, his arms crossed over his wide chest. This was the last match. This would decide who was going to go home with the gold. He couldn't fail now!

Scar was called into the ring twice, making the ref give him a warning when he didn't immediately respond; meaning Edward automatically got a point up on him. When Scar stepped onto the foam mats, he smirked at Edward.

"Fag," hissed Scar under his breath, while they both made a mockery of the formal bow to one another.

The ref slipped a red scarf under Edward's black belt, but he had only eyes for the man across from him. Scar's lips were moving, but Edward no longer heard the litany of profane words coming out of his mouth. He was slipping into a zone-like place where he worked best. It was where he just moved and became surprised when the match was over because he hadn't noticed.

Edward shifted into his fighting stance as the referee held out his arm between them. Scar was going to learn a valuable lesson today—one that he'd carry with him for the rest of his life.

The ref's arm came down between them, cutting the air. Edward was just able to jump back from the vicious roundhouse kick aimed at his midsection. The forced exertion was enough to make sure that any remaining shots didn't land with Scar's full power. He would have to use every trick he had to make sure that he jammed up all of Scar's moves if he wanted to be assured of getting out of this with all his bones intact.

They circled around the perimeter of the mats; the ref moving with them, trying to stay out of their way. While Edward moved through the corner, Scar suddenly kicked out his leg to halt Edward's movement, locking him there. He tried to scoot out on the other side, but again Scar used his leg to keep him trapped.

For one moment, Scar paused, a wide grin plastered across his face. Then the punches came. Edward threw up an arm to cover his face, the other jabbing ineffectually at the man's arms. Each time Edward tried to get out of the corner he was forced back in. Scar was working him backwards too, towards the edge of the mats.

He was trapped and the longer he stayed here the more likely he was going to get hurt. Edward stepped outside the ring and immediately the ref was there to make Scar back off. He was given a warning and the chance to retake the center of the mat with Scar facing him once more.

The ref held his hand between them. This time, Edward would be more aggressive. He knew what Scar's plan was; he'd done it already to all the other competitors today. As soon as the ref dropped his hand, Edward rushed towards Scar. But he didn't go for a frontal attack. Weaving to the side, Edward landed a clear shot at the man's solar plexus before Scar had a chance to follow him as he rushed past. Immediately he hid behind Scar's back, and as Scar turned, so to did Edward.

Scar growled in frustration. Edward knew he was pushing his luck; it was time to make a more definite course of action. It was a bit of a stretch, but he hooked his arm around Scar's neck, and gave two quick shots to his kidneys. Scar twisted in Edward's hold, gripped the arm around his neck, and neatly flipped him over his back onto the ground.

The noise of the crowd suddenly rushed back in. The insistent roar confused him long enough that Scar was moving before he could pull himself together. Edward looked up in time to see him reach down for his arm. In a panic, Edward rolled away, planted his hands on the mat, and swept his leg out at Scar's feet. His foot crashed into Scar's ankle and stopped. Edward looked up at Scar in horror. Scar didn't seem to feel it; he hadn't moved. He was just glaring down at him like he was a vile bug that he wanted to squash.

Scrambling to his feet, Edward put distance between them. The crowd's shouts and catcalls distracted him as Scar continued to stare at him with those red eyes. He had lost his focus and could feel the apprehension settling over him. He was in deep shit now. He could no longer _feel_ the win like he had for all his tournaments in the past.

Scar lunged for him, caught him around the middle, and twisted. It happened so incredibly fast that Edward barely had the chance to recognize that he was about to be flipped again. He landed hard on his back; the wind knocked from his lungs. The ref pushed Scar back and then kneeled over him. For several panic filled moments, Edward couldn't breathe. He forced himself to calm down before the ref could count him out, and stumbled to his feet.

He nodded when the ref asked if he was okay to continue, then they were motioned to continue the fight. Edward struck first; looking to regain his dominance of the fight, like all the rest of his matches he had today. A flurry of punches followed by kicks to the legs and the body rained down on Scar. But Scar held his ground, neither retreating nor striking back. He did block every single thing Edward threw at him though, unnerving him further.

Very casually, Scar held out his hand and pushed on his chest. Edward flew backwards over his head into the crowd landing on some of the spectators. From his position outside the ring, he glared at Scar standing smugly with his arms crossed over his wide chest. Scrambling to get his legs back under him, Edward rushed up to the stage and leaped back onto the mats.

"Warning for going outside the ring," the ref said to him and the crowd. "Minus one point."

Edward grimaced. They only allowed one warning before the officials started taking away your points. It just made him mad.

Scar hardly waited for the ref to get out of the way before he was in Edward's face and crowding his moves. "You've already lost," said Scar around his mouth guard.

That made Edward truly angry. With a growl, he jumped up and kicked out with his leg, catching Scar on the shoulder. Scar leaned forward; Edward reacted. A right cross, coming from above right on the side of the other man's jaw whipped his head around and back. An upper cut followed right behind it, coming up through Scar's failing guard. Both hits only earned him grunts from Scar, but he was only just starting. By the end of it, he hoped to make the man bleed.

Edward pulled back his hand for another upper cut, but Scar pinned his arms to the side of his body and kneed him twice just under the ribcage. Wincing in pain, Edward kicked at the inside of Scar's knee, collapsing it sideways, creating space. Two fast kicks, one to the body that landed on Scar's arm, and the other towards the head—which Scar leaned away at the last second to avoid. Without putting his leg down, Edward reversed the direction of his kick and came out of Scar's blind spot at the back of his head. That one missed too.

Shifting his stance, Edward brought his leg straight down across Scar's face, grazing him. He felt the anger burning in side him, making him reckless. As soon as his leg touched the ground, Edward rushed forward with another barrage of punches. Scar ducked and wove, caught his arm again and flipped him to the ground, landing on top of him. One arm went behind Edward's head, hooking in his armpit, the other pressed on the side of his neck on the artery.

The pain was so intense! He tried to work his way out, but he was stuck! He tried to hold out, but his vision was starting to dim. Gritting his teeth, Edward tapped out of the match. With a snort, Scar released him.

"Pansy ass," Scar grumbled at him and stood.

As far as matches went, Edward had faired pretty well. All of Scar's other opponents had walked away looking much worse. He, at least, wasn't too beat up. But...he felt like crying over how badly it had gone. Swallowing hard, Edward rolled over onto his hands and knees, then got to his feet. The ref stood between them, holding onto their wrists.

"Judges?" said the ref. Edward couldn't look as he knew that Scar had won. He didn't need it reinforced. He'd lost. He swallowed hard again as he felt the ref shift. Forcing a brave front, Edward looked up and held out his hand to Scar. Despite everything the guy had done to make today a pain in the ass, he still respected the man's abilities. Plus, he didn't want to be accused of being dishonorable.

His hand hovered there between them, the crowd yelling or dispersing as they saw fit, but Scar made no move to take his hand. With a narrowing of eyes, Scar turned away. Edward let his hand fall back to his side and gave a sad shake of his head. Bowing to the judge's table, Edward left the ring.

* * *

The ride back to the hotel was quiet as Edward was deep in thought. He stared out the side window unseeing. Silver was an acceptable replacement for gold...however, he felt like he'd missed the chance of a life time. He hadn't mentioned it to anyone, but it was his intent to leave the martial arts world after this tournament and attend university. But he wanted to leave on a high note, and a silver just wasn't as high as he wanted to go.

"Are you okay?" Roy asked from beside him on the seat. Edward blinked at the window, bringing him back from his wondering thoughts and looked at the man seated at his right.

"Yeah..." said Edward with a small unconvincing smile. He turned back to the view outside, falling silent.

"I know you're feeling bad. I often feel cheated and depressed when I don't successfully acquire a company."

Edward nodded absently, but was unconvinced. As far as he knew, Roy always got his way and he didn't feel like entertaining hollow platitudes. He just wanted to wallow for a while. "Can we order in, instead of going out? I don't feel like being around others," asked Edward.

"Certainly. Let's not get anything that requires sticks to eat it, though."

Edward smiled at the window, remembering how much of a hard time Roy had had that evening. "Okay." He turned to look at Roy who was watching him with concern and smiled a little more genuinely. "I'll be all right. I'm just sulking a little bit."

Roy nodded, and then reached over to hold his shoulder. "If it means anything to you, I thought you did really well."

"Thanks. It does." Edward reached up and patted Roy's hand, then gave it a squeeze. He sobered once again. "Roy, I'm sorry about what I said today. I didn't mean to say those things to you."

"But you did feel them?" wondered Roy, a concerned tilt to his head. He lifted his hand off of Edward's shoulder and covered his right hand resting on the seat between them.

"Yeah," said Edward so softly that he wasn't sure Roy had heard. He dropped his gaze back to his lap as he felt the beginnings of a blush heat his face. Roy's hand was so warm over his and he didn't want to remove his hand either. He kinda liked it.

--To Be Continued—

Well, that's it for this chapter! Please let me know—via reviews—that someone is still out there and reading!!


	18. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

Thanks to ZaKai for betaing!

So, my real life troubles may be over… (For now?) …I hope. The last chapter of "A Little Light of Love" has been sent off to the beta and should be up before long –crosses fingers-, which means that this will be the _new_ main story. So, if nothing crazy happens, and the bunnies help me out, I hope to have more updates, more often. But, as always, I won't promise that ;D

* * *

**Chapter 17**

**--**

They ended up ordering pizza at Roy's insistence. Edward wasn't sure if he believed him when he said that he hadn't had pizza since he was a kid. What person didn't eat pizza? But the way Roy seemed to savor each bite as if he'd never tasted it before made him wonder if he wasn't, in fact, telling the truth. Seated across from one another on the floor in the living room, Edward was leaning against the love seat and Roy was leaning on his hand. It was nice and comfortable to be around Roy now.

His initial moodiness on the ride back to the hotel was gone now that he had food in front of him. Ed had stood in the shower for a long time when they got back thinking over the fight with Scar and wondering if there could have been anything he could have done that might have given him the win. After a while, he hadn't wanted to even think about it anymore. He'd shut off the water and gotten dressed in the steamy bathroom. When he'd come out he'd found Roy on the phone, talking to someone about business. Since it didn't concern him, he plopped down on the sofa and started braiding his damp hair.

Once Roy got off the phone, they'd sat around talking until the pizza arrived. The worst and somehow best day of his life was because Roy was with him. There was something about him that was making this easier to deal with. It might be the fact that they had been together straight for almost three days, or it might be because they shared a pretty hot moment before Scar waltzed in and broke it up.

"I didn't know that you wanted to study Anthropology," Roy was saying, looking up from the pizza in his hand.

"Yeah, history is very fascinating to me." Edward waved his pizza crust around, taking in the room. "In a couple hundred years someone will find this pizza crust and think all sorts of weird shit about it and the people who might have come in contact with it. My father has all sorts of interesting books about the Roman Empire. I think I want to focus on that, but I'm not sure yet."

"I do remember you reading an awful lot as a teenager," remarked Roy, taking another bite.

"Well, no one really bothered me while I was reading, so I really enjoyed it! Of course, I got teased about that in school, but I did alright just the same."

"Yes. It seems you have."

Edward placed his crust in the box. "Roy, about today..." He stared at his folded legs, gathering his thoughts together. He had avoided talking about this so far tonight, but he wanted to get it out of the way and make sure Roy understood. "I _did_ feel those things, but..."

"I'm sorry about that, Edward. I never even thought that you might take any of that stuff seriously. If I had known—"

Edward held up a hand to forestall his excuses. "It's true it did hurt me, but I don't blame you, not really. I was hurt and confused; I thought that it was because I wasn't rich like you or Winry. I thought I deserved it."

"Edward," said Roy sadly. He got up from his place on the floor and came around the coffee table to sit next to him.

"You know, it was really hard to have to take that all the time," confessed Edward. He could feel Roy's presence as if it were a huge neon sign proclaiming 'here I am!' to the world and he couldn't ignore it.

"If only you had said something," said Roy helplessly.

Edward bowed his head, acknowledging the late promise to help him. He wasn't sure that Roy would have stepped in; however, after getting to know him now, it _could_ be true. It was hard to know. But the thought that Roy would have been willing to aid him... Well, it was his fault too in a way. He should have spoken up, like Roy said. How were others to know that he was being crushed under those peoples' cold comments.

From that point on, he had pushed everyone aside. Even people who tried to befriend him in school were quietly pushed away from him, as if he might infect them with his inadequacies. Through their childhood, Roy had chased after him—the only one to really pay any attention to him, even if he hadn't understood it at the time. It was only due to Russell's patient coaxing that he finally came out of his shell.

He sighed as Roy leaned into his shoulder, offering silent support and apology. Remembering this stuff, plus his loss today, was making him more depressed. "Hey, Roy? Why did you follow me around so much?" wondered Edward, recalling Roy's comment about seeing him read.

"Ah, well at first I suppose I was curious about you. Growing up in that environment had an effect on me too, you know. I didn't know how to be a kid, and when I saw you laughing, playing, and climbing trees, I didn't understand."

"Oh," said Edward, nodding at his lap minutely.

"It's still early if you want to try to call home and talk with Winry," offered Roy.

"No thanks, I don't want to bother her." Not to mention he was no longer sure about Winry. His feelings had been so shaken up these last three days that he didn't believe he still loved her like he thought he had.

He was sure that the kiss he and Roy shared had chemistry...at least for him it did. It was true that other things had intruded on his mind throughout the day, but whenever he had a free moment, his mind wondered back to Roy, how he was held—kissed.

"Ah, Roy?"

"Yes, Edward?"

He stared down at his hands resting in his lap, unable to look at Roy while he asked this next question. "That kiss? Um, did you...feel anything?" He certainly had. That kiss was fighting really hard for precedence in his mind.

"Feel anything? Special, you mean?" Edward nodded at his lap. "You mean like this?" asked Roy. He placed a hand under Edward's chin and lifted his head up towards Roy. His heart was pounding hard and fast within his chest as Roy bent his head down towards his lips.

No less powerful, this kiss affected Edward just as strongly as before. Only this time it was a different type of passion that flowed through his veins. It was a slow burn that matched Roy's languid movements. Roy's hand curled around his cheek just under his ear.

There was a pleasant squirming in his stomach as Roy's hand pulled him even closer. Unbidden, Edward opened his mouth to Roy and let his tongue explore. He moaned as his tongue moved over Roy's. An answering twitch in his groin had him shifting closer to the other man, looking for more touch. Goose bumps were all ready popping up all over his body.

Breaking off the kiss, Edward moved. Roy watched him with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. With a sly smile, Edward straddled Roy's lap. He hooked his arms around Roy's neck, but didn't sit yet.

"Are you sure about this?" asked Roy, his voice pleasantly hazy. His arms settled around Edward's waist as he looked up at him, searching his face for uncertainty. Those hands stroked up and down his back over the t-shirt he was wearing. Edward leaned forward to kiss him again, but Roy said, "I don't know if I'll be able to stop," halting his forward movement.

He froze, then swallowed. He did want to be with Roy right now, but he also didn't feel comfortable telling him that he was, in essence, a virgin. He could almost guess that Roy had been with multiple partners. All you had to do was look at him and know that.

"No, I'm not sure," said Edward seriously. He wasn't sure that Roy was even sure, other than getting swept up in the moment. "But...you're making it hard to ignore you." Roy smirked at him for that. "Don't get a fat head, dummy," teased Edward, smacking Roy lightly on the shoulder.

Roy nodded slowly, averting his eyes to the space between them. "Then, perhaps we should stop here until you are sure."

"How about you? Are you sure 'about this'?" wondered Edward with a smile. He leaned away, sitting on Roy's thighs with his hands hooked around the older man's neck. A baffling look of hurt passed over Roy's face, making Edward confused. Had he, perhaps, said something wrong? "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"No...no, that's not it. You just caught me off guard, there," explained Roy, but the pained look remained.

Feeling like he might no longer be welcome in Roy's lap, Edward stood. He wondered if he was welcome near Roy at all. The uncomfortable silence that hung over them now confused Edward further. He obviously said something to bother Roy, but couldn't figure out what it could have been.

"Er, well, it's getting late. I'm going to head to bed now; I'm getting sorta stiff again from all those bruises. Goodnight," said Edward heading towards the bedroom with a strained smile for Roy who watched him leave silently.

He push the door closed until he heard it click into place. He didn't understand. They'd seemed so easy with one another during the ride back and while they were seated in the living room. Why the sudden coldness? That kiss was really hot...he could tell there was something there towards him. Roy had to like him. So, what was the problem?

Edward held onto the door handle and let his body lean towards the floor and sighed. The weight of his body stretched his tight shoulders, only easing the tension slightly. What would he give for Russell and his magic hands now? That was one of the things he missed about being with him. Now he had to suffer through it alone.

Nothing for it, he'd have to use the muscle cream he brought along. Releasing the door handle, Edward padded over to the adjoining bathroom to rummage through his toiletries bag, producing a small glass jar that fit in the palm of his hand.

The smell of camphor filled the large bathroom when the lid came off. Edward was so accustomed to the smell now that it didn't bother him at all, but he knew that some people didn't like it. Well, it was too bad if Roy was a wimp and couldn't take the smell.

Edward dug his fingertips into the red cream, scooping up a large chunk. He looked at himself in the mirror, ready to administer some, what he considered, first aid, then paused. "Shit!" hissed Edward. He forgot to take off his shirt! Now it was going to get all stained and ruined from the balm. Looking down at his fingers, Edward considered the merits of wiping the cream back into the jar or just working around the fact that his shirt was still on his back.

"Need help, Edward?" Edward started violently, whirling around to stare wide eyed at Roy standing in the doorway to the bathroom. "Oh, sorry about that. I wasn't trying to sneak up on you," said Roy coming into the bathroom to stand with his hip leaning into the sink counter top.

"Fuck, my heart's pounding," said Edward holding his clean hand to his chest, and taking deep breaths.

Roy chuckled softly. "Well the offer still stands; heart attack or no. How about it?"

"Ah..." Edward looked down at his hands for an indecisive moment before deciding that he'd scrape the cream back into the jar and take off his shirt. "Okay, um..." He ran his fingers over the lip of the jar. "Right, so do you know how to give massages?" asked Edward, he was already pulling his shirt over his head, when he froze. Did he really just ask that? "I, uh, mean..."

Edward felt his face flush again. Not only did he assume he looked ridiculous with his arms hanging out of his sleeves and his head inside his shirt, but he had said something very suggestive, too. His mind immediately went to that rare time Russell had given him more then just a massage, having him lay out on the duvet cover, naked, so that Russell could reach every part of his body to rub oil into his skin. The thought of Roy doing something like that was making him hard, and he couldn't pull off the shirt for the embarrassment he was causing himself.

"Yes? What _did_ you mean?" came Roy's voice, full of humor and not one ounce of sympathy for his dilemma.

Cringing, Edward pulled the shirt back down to find Roy with one eyebrow raised at him questioningly and a smirk that would make hearts melt for the sexy quality it lent Roy. He felt himself falling for Roy then and there; wanting him very much right now.

"Nothing!" said Edward way too quickly. He looked away and down at his balm, wondering how to apply it now that Roy was right here beside him. He had to think about that or else his mind would go to another place that involved Roy kissing him a lot; and hands, lots of hands. His gaze shifted across the counter top to find Roy's hand pressing into the edge. Those fingers were really nice looking. Not too long, so that they looked like vile dandy long-legs, and not too short that they resembled sausages, but just right, with beautifully shaped fingernails.

Roy's skin was pale enough that Edward could see the blue veins pop up, crisscrossing the back of his hand. The skin looked smooth and warm. He could still feel those hands on his back, moving up and down, spreading the warmth. What would it be like to suck on those nicely proportioned fingertips, letting his tongue roll the digit from side to side, letting the taste of Roy move through his mouth? What would it be like...

"I don't need help," said Edward, straining to make his voice less...strained. He blinked and focused on the open jar in front of him. He had to pull himself together. He was acting like a girl about to swoon and he wasn't about to do that even if Roy was swoon worthy.

"Hm? Are you sure?" asked Roy, his voice almost a purring rumble.

Edward whirled on Roy, suddenly angry that by his voice alone, he was ready to let Roy have his way with him willingly. "What! What about you! What was that back there?" asked Edward, redirecting the conversation away from him and back to Roy. His shifted his weight hoping that it might somehow make his dick fall into a more comfortable position. It did not.

"I was taken off guard," said Roy calmly, raising his eyebrow at his reaction.

"Like hell! It definitely got a few degrees colder in there!" growled Edward, pointing at the bathroom wall. His erection did not want to go away, and it was only making him antsy. He needed to adjust it, but he didn't want to advertise that to Roy. The whole situation was making him mad and crazy with confused feelings and emotions.

"Over reacting just a little bit, Edward?" wondered Roy, raising both eyebrows now.

"Tch!" Edward stomped his way past Roy towards the bedroom, but was pulled to a stop by the hand on his arm.

"I didn't reject you, I was just thinking—to find out if I was sure like you asked me to. Why are you lashing out like this?"

"I'm not!" Edward practically shouted in Roy's face, jerking his arm free. He continued through to the bedroom.

"Now, see here! There's no reason to be acting like this," growled Roy, scowling at him. Edward shot a snide look over his shoulder before passing out of Roy's line of sight. "Edward! Talk to me!" Roy's voice followed him out into the living room.

"Just leave me alone!" snapped Edward, whirling around to find Roy right on top of him. His erection jumped in his pants, adding to his anger and annoyance. "What do you want from me? I don't know what you want! Why can't you just leave me alone!"

"Edward—" Roy reached out for him, but Edward knocked the hands aside hard. Roy's face darkened dangerously. "I don't have a clue what brought this on—you're being irrational."

"I can be irrational if I want!"

Roy's eyes seem to burn with a dark fire. His almost black eyes danced threateningly at him and his jaw clenched and unclenched. Suddenly, Roy reached out and gripped his upper arms. Hard. Edward glared up challengingly into Roy's hard eyes, unafraid.

What Roy did next, however, did shake his bravado, making his eyes go wide in shock. Roy pressed his mouth over Edward's stubborn one, hard. He demanded to be let in with a hard press of his tongue against Edward's clenched mouth. Edward grunted in protest. He tried to lean away, to push on Roy's chest, but it seemed that either he had gone weak or else Roy was stronger then he'd let on.

One of Roy's hands released his arm and went straight to his groin to rub him through his pants, pressing his dick against his lower stomach aggressively. Edward felt himself start to give in, to submit. "What's this? Hard for me, Edward?" teased Roy, his breath brushing across his face.

Edward looked up into the face of burning desire. Roy's face was so close to his, his breath so hot against his face. He could taste Roy in his mouth, and the hand on his dick was now touching only the fabric of his pants, but he knew that the hand was still here, that it was still moving. He groaned with want. He wanted that aggression back, because he was so hard now that he was starting to hurt.

Thrusting his hips into Roy's hand, Edward reached up with his free hand and brought Roy's face back down to his. The kiss was bruising, hard, and hot. Edward moaned around Roy's tongue in his mouth. Wantonly, he pushed his leg between Roy's so that his thigh pushed against the other man's balls.

Roy growled and suddenly spun him around, herding him back towards the bedroom. Edward stumbled over his feet as they became entangled with Roy's, but he was admittedly more focused on Roy's mouth and hand, then on his own feet. His hands pulled at Roy's shirt, trying to pull it off without undoing the buttons down the front. Roy was better and pulled his shirt off, making him release Roy's shirt so that the t-shirt could pass over his head. Roy threw it to the side and attacked his neck with lips and teeth. Frustrated at his slowness, Edward gripped either side of Roy's shirt and pulled. Small buttons went flying everywhere.

Edward slid his hands inside Roy's ruined shirt, loving the feel of his skin under his palms. Roy was weaving his hand through his braid, pulling it apart and sucking on his ear. Groaning at the amount of suction Roy was utilizing, Edward pushed Roy's shirt to the floor and let his head fall back to allow the taller man better access to his neck or wherever else he wanted to go. They both went for the other's pants at the same time, fumbling with belts and buttons and zippers; tugging at the offensive material if it didn't immediately obey and fall to the floor.

Two sets of pants pooled at their feet, while they fell to the bed. Hands groped, pressed; kisses were exchanged. The last barrier between them, their underwear, was quickly discarded as well. A frenzy of thrusting against each other, panted breaths and groans filled the room.

Edward was going out of his mind at the depth of feeling he had because of Roy's touch. With Russell it had never been this hurried; this madness of want. Arching his back off the bed, Edward groaned as Roy kissed his way down the front of his stomach. Just Roy breathing on him made him ache painfully, but when Roy's over heated tongue licked up the underside of his cock, Edward thought he might faint.

Roy pushed one leg further up the bed, making Edward bare himself even more. He then licked up from just behind his balls, up to the head of his dick in one long, wet pass. His toes curled tight. Edward was shaking slightly as he waited for Roy to lick him, suck him, anything he wanted to do, as long as he did _something_. Lifting his head from the bed, Edward looked down his body to find Roy staring at him with those dark eyes of his. They promised so much that Edward could only pant in response.

Granting Edward's silent wish, Roy bent his head back down and engulfed his length within his hot mouth. With a long, pleasure-filled groan, Edward slammed his head back into the bed, one hand landing on Roy's head, pushing him further, while the other hand gripped the sheets near his hip in an effort to still his thrusting hips. Roy's soft tongue undulated against the underside of his cock, while Roy sucked him hard. The two sensations pulled him this way and that.

"Ah, fuuckk," hissed Edward, pushing Roy's head down his length. "Yea...like that."

Roy chuckled around him, adding to his enjoyment as his cock vibrated with Roy's mirth. Lifting his mouth off Edward's erection until only the head was in his mouth, Roy tongued the tip, thrusting the point of his tongue into the urethra , then sweeping his tongue broadly around the circumference.

Roy worked him expertly, building him up to the point of no return only to back off and let him come down enough to drive him insane. Four times, Roy backed off before he finally crawled up Edward's squirming, desperate body, fisting both their erections before Roy rolled them to lay on their sides.

"I don't have any lube, or else this would play out very differently," whispered Roy into Edward's ear. Edward shivered at the full implications of what they were doing, and what Roy wanted to do passed through his passion fog into his brain.

But then Roy began to move his hand. Edward could feel Roy as he thrust against him and through his hand. He began to thrust wildly on his own, looking for the release he had been denied four times already. They didn't last long. Edward's frenzy with Roy's dwindling control meant that within moments they were cuming all over their stomachs and the bed cover.

The afterglow was not weird at all. Edward figured that after doing something this intimate with someone, you ought to feel a bit unsure, but as he rested his head on Roy's collarbone, and threw a leg over his hip he could honestly say that wasn't the case. He felt like jelly of the best kind—the sort that didn't have to move or think or anything. Roy was warm, keeping the chill of the room at bay. He would have fallen asleep if Roy hadn't of suddenly gotten off the bed.

"What're you doin'," mumbled Edward, looking over his shoulder to watch Roy head into the bathroom.

Roy didn't answer. Edward let his head settle back into the pillow, too tired to really care. His eyes drifted closed as he listened to the noises coming from the bathroom. The faucet turned on for a few minutes, then shut off. He could hear Roy's bare feet pad across the stone tiled floor before fading onto carpet. A warm face cloth wiped away the mess and Roy was gone again.

"Edward? This cream—do you want me to rub some in?"

"Bastard..." grumbled Edward tiredly. "How do you have energy?" He slowly rolled over to look at Roy, naked before him, holding the small jar of muscle cream. Edward couldn't help but ogle Roy as he was standing right there, he probably wanted to be ogled. So, Edward did.

Roy was lean and tall. He looked like his stomach went on forever, finally coming down to a line of dark hairs that led down to his groin. His legs added to the impression of height as they were long with lean muscles that were very beautiful. Everywhere was pale and smooth, almost as if Roy might shave his whole body. Somehow the thought that Roy might, in fact, shave himself (except for his groin, obviously) was incredibly erotic to him. He wanted to watch Roy do that. If he hadn't just cum, he'd be hard again. Maybe in a bit...

"I'm just that good," said Roy with a smirk. "Lie on your stomach. Now that you're docile, I'll help you out like I said I would."

Edward just snorted in annoyance, but rolled over with a sigh. He felt the bed dip as Roy sat next to him. "You gotta wash your hands really well after, or else," mumbled Edward.

"Okay," said Roy softly. Roy's hands suddenly plunged into his hair, pulling it out from under his arms, between his shoulders, and moving it off to the side. His fingers were gentle and cautious of snags. Edward loved feeling someone's hands in his hair and scalp, but knowing that it was Roy's hands there and that he really liked those hands...ah, he was maybe going to get hard faster if this kept up. "Your whole back or just your shoulders?" asked Roy.

"Shoulders."

Roy shifted again until he straddled him from behind. "Hm, you have a very fine ass, Ed," said Roy, giving said ass a playful spank. Edward clenched his cheeks together in protest, but couldn't quite work up a rebuttal. "Everything is very fine. Your back—have you ever seen your back?" wondered Roy.

"Of course. It is _my_ back after all," Edward said sarcastically.

"But, I don't think you understand. This back is beautiful. The muscles, the sinew..." Roy pressed his hands up Edward's back. The pressure was divine. "Makes me want to ravish you again." Roy kissed the back of Edward's neck once.

"No ravishing! More cream spreading," said Edward, secretly elated that Roy enjoyed his body so much. He glared up at Roy sitting on top of him, amazed that he wasn't more weirded out by what they had just done. It wasn't awkward at all between them. It made him feel bad for his earlier outburst. But Roy didn't seem to mind it at all.

"Oh, very well," conceded Roy, rolling his eyes theatrically. He placed the jar—the _cold_ jar—on the middle of his lower back making him hiss in surprise. "Don't move!" ordered Roy, playfully slapping his bum again. Then he rubbed it. "Great ass," Roy said fondly.

Edward rolled his eyes, sighed and let his eyes close. He moaned quietly when Roy's hands began to kneed and spread the strong smelling cream over his shoulders, neck and upper back. This was bliss. Roy really knew what he was doing. He was hitting all the tight spots with the cream first, then pressing his thumb into the knot and working it out until Edward was just a puddle of goo.

"Before you go to sleep, I want you to know that I will be getting us up early to fly back home."

"Hm," agreed Edward sleepily. He could hear Roy chuckling at him and the weight on his bum vanished. Edward drifted a bit, until hands pulled him onto his side, and he was enveloped in warm arms and covered with the blankets.

"You smell like a medicine cabinet," teased Roy softly against his temple.

"Hm-hmm," agreed Edward again, snuggling into Roy's embrace and falling asleep.

--To Be Continued--

This one is a little shorter then the more recent previous chapters, but this is typical of chapter length for the majority of the story. XD Anyway, how was it? Be sure to share, since I'm still a little dubious about my smut!craft. Any suggestions to improve (or if you think I don't need to improve) would be appreciated!

Smutty smut ahoy! XD


	19. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

Thanks to ZaKai for betaing!

Hi y'all! Another chapter… I hope you enjoy this one! And please, help donate your reviews to starving writers. I'm hungry for encouragement ;D

**Chapter 18**

Edward awoke to the sound of someone moving around his room. With a loud sigh, he rolled over to find Roy dressed in a pair of slacks and a button down shirt with his ass thrust up into the air as he bent over his small carry on case. His usual morning erection rubbed against the sheets, responding to this very enticing view.

"Is that an invitation?" asked Edward, rubbing his eyes languidly. Startled, Roy stood and looked down at him for a moment, then smiled.

"I'm open to that," purred Roy, coming over to the bed and placing hands on either side of his splayed body to lean down. Edward tilted his head up to receive the kiss but Roy went for his forehead instead. He thrust out his lip in annoyance causing Roy to chuckle at him. "Happy to see me?" wondered Roy as his palm covered Edward's crotch and stroked through the thin bed sheet.

"What will you do about it? It's your fault, you know," Edward said, looking up to Roy's face hovering over him.

Roy raised an eyebrow. Reaching up, he pulled the sheet down Edward's body, exposing his naked body to the cooler air in the room. "Very happy to see me," said Roy with a small nod in acknowledgment of his erection. Edward spread his legs in invitation, watching intently as Roy stared at his groin.

It almost looked like Roy was about to drool on him the way he was studying him so closely. Edward's attention shifted slightly to Roy's own groin and saw that it too, was responding under these heated looks. Reaching out, he placed his hand over Roy, stroking him through the cloth of his trousers.

With a groan coming from deep in the back of Roy's throat, he leaned forward, pressing his hand into the mattress. "Tease," hissed Roy, looking down at him raptly.

"Do something about it," said Edward saucily. He smirked challengingly at Roy as the man's eyes roved over his splayed body. He couldn't believe how confident he had become around Roy since last night. He felt that he didn't need to be so careful anymore. Roy pulled Edward's hand away from his groin and held it down into the mattress near his hip while he placed his other hand over his flat stomach, watching as he spread his fingers wide.

Roy became still then, staring at some unknown point on the bed, lost. Edward tilted his head to the side to try and get a better read of what was going through Roy's mind. From his angle he could only see the back of his jaw. Just like last night, Edward began to sense a... He struggled to define it to himself... It was almost like Roy was...sad...

"Something wrong?" wondered Edward.

Roy turned towards him with a sly smile, the thoughtful look wiped away as if it had never been. "Only wondering what to do with you," said Roy, the hand on his stomach dipping a bit lower, making Edward's stomach twitch in anticipation. Edward smiled up at Roy encouragingly, receiving an answering grin. Roy leaned forward. Edward thought it was for a kiss. He even raised his face, ready to kiss back, but Roy suddenly changed his angle and began to kiss his neck.

Sighing, both because he was denied a kiss from those wonderfully skilled lips and because those lips were now working on his neck, Edward relaxed further into the mattress. Roy's hand skimmed up his side to his arm and pulled. Edward looked at Roy with a silent question but only received a smile in return as he was pulled to his feet. Finally, Roy attacked his mouth, sliding his tongue in easily.

With a new pulse of desire, Edward pulled Roy even closer to his naked body where he could feel the shift of expensive cloth along the length of body and most acutely, on his erection. They stepped back towards the bathroom, Roy's hands were everywhere; kneading his ass with one hand and at the same time pulling him tight against Roy's groin to make some delicious friction. The other hand dragged up and down his back in large, long sweeps.

Suddenly, Edward was pushed from Roy's side into the bathroom, stumbling backwards until he could sort out his feet. He stared in shock at Roy who was leaning on the door handle and the door jam with a superior, smug grin on his face.

"We have a plane to catch. Better hop to that cold shower." Roy closed the door on Edward's slack face and laughter could be heard.

It took Edward ten agonizingly long seconds to comprehend what had just happened and the fact that his dick was still throbbing impatiently for some attention. When his brain decided to start working again, Edward glared at the door. "YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" he yelled, only to be answered with an even deeper laugh.

* * *

Roy made amends by having a large breakfast waiting on him when he came out of the bedroom, fully dressed. There was a large bowl full of scrambled eggs, bacon, ham, juice, and fruit. Smiling from his chair at the table, Roy held out an empty plate towards him.

"Fine, you're forgiven," said Edward, sighing dramatically and relieving Roy of his burden. He sat down next to Roy and began to fill his plate. Roy chuckled softly and went back to reading his paper.

They sat quietly, Roy reading while Edward ate; only now he was sorta uncomfortable around Roy. With a quiet sigh, Edward broke off a bit of bacon, crunching it loudly. Maybe it was just that he had time to think about what they had done last night and almost done again this morning. He wasn't sorry that it had happened, but he did wonder what this meant for him, and _them,_ now. There was nothing that Roy was doing that screamed one time only, but thinking about the Mustangs in general made him wonder what would happen to him now.

"What time do we leave?" wondered Edward, trying to fill the silence.

"Hmm," hummed Roy, letting the paper fall to the table top and looking down at his wrist watch. "We got about thirty more minutes." The paper rustled and they fell back into silence.

"Ah." Edward gave a little nod and pushed his eggs around the plate. Half formed thoughts and impressions swirled around his mind, each one filtering for a moment then moving on. He should probably just assume that this was a one time thing and if more happened he'd be pleasantly surprised. He didn't need to start the day off by demanding a commitment from Roy at this very second.

"Well, I should get my stuff together then," said Edward, pushing his plate away, half eaten.

"Okay," mumbled Roy from between the pages of his paper.

Edward rolled his eyes in confusion then pushed the chair back. Wandering back into the bedroom, he found his bag, placed it on the rumpled mattress and sighed. He wanted to crawl back into to bed, with Roy and do...stuff. He couldn't stop his mind from going south as he looked at the bed sheets, picturing what they had done last night and he didn't understand why he was suddenly so fucking horny! When he was with Russell, there had been times that he had initiated contact, but it was mostly Russell who started things. But now he found himself wanting to fetch Roy and do all sorts of naughty things to the man.

Turning away from the bed, he went into the washroom and began to dump his stuff into his travel case. Could it be that when he was with Russell he hadn't really _been_ with him? Sure they had been friendly with one another, and Russell was always considerate towards him, but the depth of feeling he had with Roy was completely opposite from what he had experienced with Russell. The mere brush of Roy's lips made him weak with want and lust. There had only been a few rare times that Russell had been able to get such a response out of him and it usually involved alcohol.

Closing the zip on his travel bag, Edward took it back into the bedroom and dropped it into his case. It was probably just a one time thing. Roy wasn't out yet, so he didn't need someone to hang around and cause him troubles or raise questions. That being said, Edward didn't want it to be a one time thing. In the short span of time that he had spent with Roy, it had made him realize that there was something very strong between them; something he wasn't willing to just let slip through his fingers.

So, if he wasn't going to let go, what was he going to do to make Roy stay? With a groan, Edward flopped face first across the bed with a little bounce. How did his life get so fucking complicated? Oh, yes. Because of Roy... He sighed into the comforter. He wasn't a planner; he didn't know what to do to_ make_ Roy want to stay with him, but maybe if he got a chance to just talk to him about it.

"No time for slacking," said Roy suddenly. A light smack landed on his ass, making Edward grunt in protest.

Edward turned his head to the side and peered at Roy standing over him. "Leave my ass alone," he said, narrowing his eyes up at Roy but a smile ruined his mock annoyance.

"Do you have everything?" wondered Roy.

"No, just my sword left. I was mostly packed from last night."

"Good, then we should head out. I just got a call telling me that the jet is ready to go."

Sighing, Edward pushed up from the bed. Now that he was decided, he didn't know what he should say that would convince Roy to want to stay with him. Just thinking about bringing it up was making his heart bound in his chest with sick, queasy feeling deep in his stomach. He stood before Roy, having to look up slightly to see his face and the words died in his head.

"Okay. Just let me—" Roy held out the sword for him to take. Edward blinked, looking down at the sword in Roy's hands, then up at his smirking face. "Thanks..."

"Come on," urged Roy as Edward took the sword. Roy placed his arm around Edward's shoulders, giving him enough time to scoop up his case and then he was being lead out of the hotel suite.

Roy kept his arm over his shoulders all the way to the car. Every person that looked their way made Edward squirm in discomfort. He wanted to know what they might be thinking. Did it bother them to see two men like this? Did they recognize Roy? Edward wanted to push Roy's hand away, but also, he didn't. It wasn't like this in France. Gay couples were as common and as open as straight couples, but back here in America, they weren't as accepting yet. There was still an edge to how Americans dealt with same sex couples.

The limo driver was waiting by the open door for them. Edward gave him a quick nod and practically dove into the back of the car and out of Roy's hold. Panting, he let his bag drop to the floor and bent over his lap, holding his head.

"Are you alright?" asked Roy, his arm once again finding its way across his shoulders. The car door thudded closed. "What's wrong?"

The engine purred to life, sending a slight vibration through the vehicle. "I—didn't that bother you? Everyone saw!" gasped Edward, looking up from his hands at Roy's concerned face leaning close to his ear. "That was worse then Scar being in my face."

"I don't know what you think happened just now, but all we did was walk out to the car," said Roy gently.

"Roy, stop. The driver will see you," hissed Edward, squeezing himself against the door. They stared at each other; Edward chewing his lip and searching Roy's calculating gaze.

Finally Roy dropped his gaze to the carpeted floor, then looked back at him. Without another word, Roy slid across the seat, away from Edward and touched a control on the door, causing the privacy divider to raise into place.

"Better?" asked Roy with a raise of his eyebrow. Edward hunched his shoulders unhappily. It seemed like Roy was making fun of him somehow.

"Look, I'm only thinking about you and your position. Not only would it look bad for you to be seen like _that_ with a guy, but I'm only the chauffeur's son—"

Roy cut him off with a raised hand. Edward's attention was unwillingly drawn to those long fingers and he watched the hand curl into a lose fist before it was placed in Roy's lap.

"What's really going on in that head of yours, Edward?" asked Roy, his eyes staring unseeing out the window.

"I could ask you the same thing," said Edward, feeling bold. This was his opening. He could make his case to Roy and tell him why they should stay together...only…the tone of his voice made it sound like he didn't want to be with Roy... Dammit! He was being too confrontational. "Forget what I said just now, I..."

"I understand," murmured Roy.

"You do? What do you understand?"

"That you still love Winry."

Edward shook his head in shock. Where the hell did that come from? "No! I don't! I mean I did, but not now. Not after—last night, I mean we..." Roy turned his head slowly, staring him in the eyes. It was hard for Edward maintain eye contact and not turn away, those black eyes were so commanding, drawing him in. Whatever else Edward might have said died.

So it was true, it was only a one time thing. Edward felt sad that this was all it was going to be, but then again, at least they hadn't had intercourse. It might have hurt even more if they had done that. He blinked twice and turned away.

"Excuse me," murmured Roy, pulling out his vibrating phone and flipping it open. "Hello? Right...I'll be back in New York by six at the latest."

Edward tuned out Roy's conversation. Roy didn't want him like that for anything longer then last night. Before he knew it they were at the airport and boarding the plane. The rest of the car ride had been quiet between them with Roy on the phone more then off it. Maria was there, greeting them both with a smile, only this time, Edward couldn't give her a smile back.

* * *

It had been a difficult morning for Roy.

He had wanted to fall back into bed with Edward more then he cared to admit to himself. The man made a really tempting package...especially naked and aroused. All that tanned skin, smooth and muscular physic, golden hair attractively messy and spread across the pillow. If he hadn't have been pressed for time, he could have made sure that Edward really did want to be with him over his sister.

He had spent a great deal of time last night after Edward had fallen asleep, thinking. He had so much to do with regards to his upcoming merger with Maes's company and with the nearing conclusion of his plans for Edward. But the feel of Edward in his arms was such a comfort to him that he became confused. Those rare times that he had taken a discreet partner to his bed had never inspired him to want to hold them like Edward did. He fit so neatly against his body, just the right size to tuck under his chin and still be pressed along his body. He was warm...and sexy in a clumsy way that made him that much more endearing.

Flipping over a page of a report, Roy tried to focus on the conversation happening in his ear, but he could just see Edward's legs, stretched out towards him. He was thinking about how it would feel to run his hands up Edward's strong, muscular calves and wondering what sort of wanton look he could get him to make when he was asked a question.

"Excuse me, what?" said Roy, tearing his eyes away from the reason for his inattention and looking down at his report. "What page was that on?" he asked and began flipping through his papers with a frown. In his annoyance at himself for not paying attention, Roy knocked several of his reports off the tray and onto the floor. Grimacing, Roy leaned over the arm of his chair while continuing to listen to the arguments in his ear.

"Now wait just a minute," growled Roy, frowning. Suddenly his reports were passed into his hand. Roy's ire was momentarily forgotten when he looked over into Edward's face. He was kneeling on the floor, holding out the papers to Roy. Instead of relieving Edward of his burden, Roy reached out and ran his fingers through Edward's thick bangs, brushing them off his face.

Edward's eyes widened, looking up at him with a cautious, wary gaze. Holding Ed's face in his hand, his thumb stroking across his tanned cheek, Roy was being drawn into those auric eyes. Just like the night at the restaurant, those eyes seemed to shift from a deep gold to a sunny yellow and every shade in between. He looked from one side of Edward's face to the other trying to catch the changes as they happened.

"I don't think I ever said anything like that," said Roy into the phone, but his attention was fully on the man at his feet. He was thoroughly charmed by the growing pinkness on his cheeks and the obvious signs of arousal in the dilation of his eyes and the quickening breathing. "You have your instructions! I won't say it again," said Roy angrily, turning away from Edward and letting his hand drop away.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Edward stand, placing the papers on the tray. Roy had to turn away. He couldn't afford to be distracted by his presence now. Not when his board of directors was breathing down his neck. If he could pull away from all this before they landed, he'd work on manipulating Edward to agree to leave with him.

* * *

The flight seemed longer than before; of course, he had been sleeping for most of it last time. There wasn't anything for him to do other then watch Roy argue with whoever was on the phone. He had long since given up watching Roy work in favor of his own thoughts.

He was so confused about everything. He was going home...where Winry was waiting. He did want to see her again, but not for the reasons Roy thought. However it had happened, Edward had moved beyond wanting the fairy tale that Winry represented and was now wanting something much more from Roy.

To him, Winry was his ideal version of a woman, but his concept of her and who she really was were at odds. He could see that now. Somehow, Roy had shown him that without even once talking about her. He had raised Winry up, making her into a fantasy woman that had nothing to do with reality. She was fickle, flighty, shallow, and he had almost gotten swept up in her fake charms. But that didn't mean that he didn't like her for who she _could_ be.

Roy suddenly stood from his chair and began to walk towards the front of the plane, the long phone cord unraveling. He was frowning and talking lowly into the phone, his hand running through his hair. Edward watched him through lidded eyes, his head resting in his palm. It must be really hard to be a CEO of such a large company like Mustang Inc. What sort of things would he have to deal with on a daily basis? He knew for sure that he wouldn't ever be able to do even half of what Roy did.

It really must have been hard to grow up on the flip side of that coin. Where he had been ridiculed by Roy and Winry's teachers, what sort of standards had Roy been held up too? He had been quite young when he had taken control of the company from his mother. That couldn't have been easy and from what his father told him, Roy had yet to make a misstep. According to da, Roy had been growing the company exponentially ever since he took the helm.

Watching Roy deal with whatever the problem seemed to be, how his shoulders seemed to tighten up, the small crease between his dark eyebrows, even the way his mouth pulled down at the edges; it made him want to help in some way. He knew that whatever help he could offer would be weak at best. With a sigh, Edward let his head fall back against the chair, closing his eyes. Maybe he should stop worrying about things he could do nothing about and just try to get some sleep.

* * *

It was tough to move around with crutches and it seriously cramped her fashion sensibilities, but it wasn't like she had a choice in the matter; breaking an ankle hurt like hell. Winry wasn't sure she wanted to thank Roy or yell at him for getting those strong drugs for her. True, they blocked out the pain and let her sleep, but they made her sleep...which meant she couldn't do anything while Roy had Edward in his grasp.

With her initial drugs all used up, she was now on some weaker medication that allowed her to function. Two days she'd been asleep and upon waking, finding out that Roy had taken Edward—it pissed her off that he was doing this. Pinako had kept the crutches from her for another day, along with removing all phones from her room and forbidding the staff from providing her with one—proving that their mother was working with Roy.

Tonight, Roy and Edward were due back. A few calls made to Roy's assistant, Alex, confirmed their landing time and estimated arrival at the house. Now, she could pick up where they left off and go to the solarium for that glass of wine. No dancing this time, but maybe something..._else_ could be arranged. Hobbling towards the front door was hard on her armpits but she wasn't about to let Roy and Edward arrive without her being there to greet them.

As Winry opened the front door and hobbled out onto the front step, she could just see a car pull into the long drive way. Alex really knew his job well. They were arriving right on time.

Winry straightened out her silk pajamas and robe, smoothed her hair, all while watching the car approach like a hawk. As it drew near, she braved the steps, coming down awkwardly to the pebbled drive. The door closest to her opened first, Roy getting out of the car with his usual grace. The look she got from him was filled with annoyance and resignation. Well, it serves him right. There was no way she was going to let Roy just steal Edward out from under her like that.

That was another thing that had bothered her yesterday as she lay in bed, marking each passing hour. Why was Roy stepping in like this? He was quick to help her get rid of her used up lovers, giving them expensive toys, or generous sums of money to make them go away without a fuss, but he'd never whisked one of her interests away like _this_. For as long as she could remember, Roy had been focused on the company. He had never once taken anyone anywhere! That he had done so now with _Edward_ puzzled her.

Her attention shifted to the far side of the car as door opened, letting Edward out into the night air. He was looking off towards the garage first before he turned and caught sight of her.

"Hi," she said, smiling at him over the roof of the car.

"Hi," said Edward, surprise written all over his face. Winry smiled wider. He was so gorgeous. How could she have ever missed that? "Is it alright for you to be out of bed?" he asked, clearly concerned.

"Oh, yeah, it's fine. Now that I'm off those heavy pain killers," remarked Winry, shooting a quick but pointed glance at her brother.

"Well, that's good," Edward said, closing the door with a slam.

"So…how have you been?" Winry asked. She wanted Roy to go away, but didn't want to be so rude to say so in front of Edward. His presence made her annoyed.

"Good," said Edward, looking to Roy for a moment then back at her.

"Say, I was thinking. We never did get our dance in the solarium," said Winry, limping forward, placing herself between Edward and Roy. "How about we get a bottle of wine instead—I got some mugs we can use, and we could sit and talk?"

Edward looked to Roy for a moment and Roy to him, causing Winry to frown in confusion. She looked between them uneasily. There seemed to be a silent conversation taking place, an undercurrent; but for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why. Roy and Edward had never gotten along for as long as she could remember. How on earth could it be happening now?

"Are you going back to the city?" wondered Winry, looking over the roof of the car at her brother. Roy's continued presence was perturbing to her. There was no reason for him to be hanging around. It was obviously making Edward uncomfortable.

"I don't think so, it's getting late," answered Roy coolly. He looked over at Edward again before murmuring, "I should go. Have a good night, Edward."

Winry looked between them again, but as always Roy's emotions were closed to her, but Edward seemed like he wanted to say something. Before he could find his voice, Roy was walking towards the back of the house. Dismissing her brother's strange behavior, Winry crossed the remaining distance and took Edward's hand in her own.

Finally! She had him all to herself.

"How was the flight? You went to Los Angeles? How was it?" she wondered, giving Edward's warm hand a squeeze. His hand was so strong. She could feel the tendons move under her fingers, making her smile. Already she was imagining what those hands would feel like on her delicate skin, how they would look.

"It...was good..." said Edward hesitantly. His gaze dropped to the ground between their feet for a moment, then lifted to meet her eyes evenly.

"Great. It must have been a bore being with Roy all that time. He's such a stuffed shirt. So..." said Winry, misreading the look of resignation on Edward's face for acceptance and smiled encouragingly. "What do you say? Want to go somewhere we can be alone?"

"Um, what's going to happen...between us, I mean," mumbled Edward, staring her into her eyes.

"Oh, I don't know. Anything that comes to mind," purred Winry provocatively, giving him a wink to further tease him.

"Is that all?" asked Edward, tilting his head with his question. He shifted his weight so that there was a bit more space between them. She didn't like that at all.

"Oh, well I'm sure we can think up something to keep us entertained," said Winry, missing the edge in Edward's voice. She knew that if she could get him alone, there wouldn't be time for talking. They would be very busy doing other things.

"Actually, I'm kinda tired from the flight. Do you mind if I just turn in for the night?" asked Edward, but it wasn't really a question. Winry got that much.

"Aw, really," whined Winry, putting on her best pout. It worked all the time for getting her way. Edward wouldn't know what hit him. "Just for a little while. Please."

"I really shouldn't," said Edward sadly, but Winry noted that the tone of his voice didn't match the look in his eyes at all. He gently pulled his hand from hers and stepped back, creating distance.

Undeterred, Winry said, "I won't take no next time, Edward."

Smiling weakly at her, Edward gave her hand a squeeze then took a step towards the garage. With a faint nod, he turned strode across the driveway to take the stairs two at a time. Winry watched him walk away, feeling as though she had just let a newly found treasure out of her sight.

* * *

From the cover of the shadows, Roy watched his sister and Edward talk quietly to each other. It was like his mind was deathly quiet, but at the same time rushing forward with ideas and plans. He was surprised to see Winry meet them at the door and he wondered just how bad it had ruined his plans.

Watching Edward in the yellow light from the front porch, how he moved carefully, the unwitting smile that his sister earned for her efforts... Roy dropped his gaze to the grass. He stood there completely still, feeling the warm breeze lift his hair and carry the murmur of their voices.

He didn't stay to see if Edward would go with Winry or not. He was tried and after dealing with various tense people on the phone for most of the flight, he wanted nothing more then to collapse into his bed and just sleep for a few hours. Without sparing another glance at the two, Roy turned away from the driveway. For the next few hours he intended to not think of anything to do with Edward or his own goals.

--To Be Continued—

The plot…it gets thicker…


	20. Chapter 19

Crossing through the house towards the main stairway, Roy passed the drawing room and saw that his mother was still up

Disclaimer: I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

Thanks to ZaKai for betaing!

**Chapter 19**

Roy decided to go to the office early the next morning. He didn't even bother waking up Hohenheim to drive him in; he planned on taking a cab instead. He did, however, spend the time waiting for his cab staring up at the upper level of the garage thinking about how wonderful it felt to have a warm body next to his.

Visions of Ed and Winry had filled his head last night, tainting what they had shared the night before. Bitter jealousy—for he knew it for what it was—burned in his gut when he stared up at the dark ceiling in his bedroom, trying to fall asleep. And he could still remember how warm Ed was when pressed against him. How he could still smell his medicinal cream and his own shampoo in Ed's long hair?

With a disgusted shake of his head, Roy pushed these thoughts away, looking down the driveway at the approaching cab. They had no place in his life now, and would never have a place in his life. He was the CEO of a large company and worked hard to make sure both his mother and his sister were well taken care of. This…dalliance would serve no purpose. So, it was just as well that he would soon finish up with this annoying task and before he knew it—by tomorrow at the latest—Edward would be gone.

The cab ride was blissfully quiet allowing Roy to stare at the pre-dawn scenery mindlessly. He tried to turn his mind to the tasks he needed to accomplish today. There were calls to be made to the architect who was overseeing construction of a new building in Hong Kong, he had to meet with his in-house lawyers to smooth out some wording in a future proposal, of course, he had to call Maes and lastly, he had to get rid of Edward.

The image of Edward lying on the bed in the hotel, wanting him as much as he wanted Edward teased him as he exited the cab in front of his office building. It stayed with him during the elevator ride all the way up to the top floor and followed him into his large, spacious office. Even knowing that he was the only one here this early, Roy felt guilty that he wasn't fully focused on his work.

But the taste of Edward lingered on the back of his mouth in the most annoying way.

Frowning at himself, Roy strode over to his coffee machine and set it on, listening to it gurgle. He let himself one more instant to enjoy the image of Edward naked before he firmly locked it away. Before long, his large desk and his conference table were taken up with plans, reports, and memos relating to his current and future projects.

At around eight thirty Alex came striding into his office while Roy was standing at the conference table, partially out of sight as the large man was about to lay some of the morning reports on his desk. Roy looked up from his paper strewn table to mutely watch the hulking man move with efficiency and economy of motion that he had always admired somewhat.

That is until he saw how Edward could move.

Alex might have his own grace that was nice to watch, but Edward _flowed_. That was the only way Roy could think of to describe just how…fluid he could be. The man could move as if he had no bones, contorting backwards or leaping up in the air. And the way Edward handled that sword… Alex turned, his gaze lighting on him as he watched from behind the table.

"You're here?" Alex said, his beady eyes wide with surprise. Roy could almost imagine that there was a glimmering halo around Alex's shinny, bald head as the heavily mustached man smiled at him.

Roy nodded briskly. "Would you like me to go over your morning now?" wondered Alex when he didn't offer any comments as to his early appearance in the office. Placing his pen on top of a pile of architecture plans, Roy nodded once and sat in the head chair.

"You have a morning conference call, scheduled for 9:30 with the Environmental board. There's your meeting with the lawyers at ten, you have a request from the New York Post to do an article on your pending merger with Hughes Technologies—"

"I'd like you to get two first class tickets to Paris," said Roy, breaking through Alex's growing list. He looked up in time to see Alex blink at him in shock.

"In what names?" asked Alex slowly. Confusion at having their normal routine interrupted didn't stop the hulking man from bring his notepad up to take notes.

"Mine and…Edward Elric's."

"Ah—" Alex looked down at his pad and scribbled some notes; keeping whatever was on his mind to himself. "And when do you leave?"

Roy pressed his lips tightly together. Would it be too soon to leave by tomorrow? Should he wait to see how receptive Edward still was? He also needed to confirm that an apartment and a bank account in Edward's name had been finalized. He wanted it to be generous enough that any and all thoughts about coming back here before the wedding was over was long gone.

"Have the other arrangements already been made?" asked Roy, steadily meeting Alex's waiting gaze.

"Yes. An apartment matching your requirements has been secured in Edward's name along with a bank account in the amount of five hundred thousand euros. The interior has been decorated to your specifications and is ready for the exchange at any time."

"Good. Make the tickets for tomorrow please," said Roy, dropping his gaze to the table top. He picked up his pen and began to go through his work. From the corner of his eye, he saw Alex flip the cover of his note book closed and make his way to the door.

"Alex?" called Roy, making the man halt with his hand on the door handle. "Could you get me some information on the business side of martial arts?" Roy lifted his lukewarm coffee cup to his lips, sipping passively at the contents.

"Martial arts, sir?" asked Alex. Even though Alex was looking puzzled by this strange request, he brought his note pad forward and took notes just the same.

"Yes, and find out how much of a tax advantage it would be to start up some sort of inner city program. I believe Alphonse Hughes does some work with a local orphanage. See if we can tie it into that."

Alex nodded his massive head, his pen scribbling furiously across the page. "And if there is none?" wondered Alex.

"Then forget it," said Roy in a clipped tone, dragging the pen through a line of text in the report in front of him.

"Yes, sir," said Alex, quickly writing his notes before turning once more for the door handle.

"Ah—" grunted Roy, rethinking his orders.

"Yes?"

"Do it anyway—even if there isn't a tax…advantage," mumbled Roy, fidgeting in his chair. He wasn't accustomed to second guessing himself, and yet…here he was doing just that. Was this because of this time with Edward? He looked up and across the office to find Alex with a singularly unusual look on his face. He positively beamed at him from his position by the door and he could _really_ see the sparkles dance around the dome of the large man's head.

It made him want to take back his order, but then thinking about how shy Edward was as a child made him wonder what he would have been like if he had found martial arts sooner. It had to be a great confidence builder—or, at least he assumed it was.

"Yes…sir," said Alex, a little more hesitant. "Is that all…?"

"Yes—no!" Roy glanced up at Alex to see him giving him a bland look. He grumbled in the back of his throat. The things that must be going through that man's head… "I need a dinner reservation," mumbled Roy, pushing his chair out so he could cross his legs, letting his gaze drop to the floor.

"Dinner… For where?"

"Roy Mustang, we need to talk!" The door to his office was thrown inside as his mother burst through in an explosion of expensive silk and large, oversized jewelry. Feeling cornered and unprepared to face this issue right now, Roy could only glare at his mother from across the room, silently willing her to back off.

"Mother," said Roy by way of greeting, using his most patronizing tone of voice. He was not looking forward to this. It was the whole reason he'd come into the office early so that he wouldn't have to sit through her embarrassing questions on the ride into work. He had _hoped_ that he would have been in his 9:30 meeting by the time she had arrived, thus preventing her from doing exactly what she was about to do.

"Alex, you're dismissed," Pinako said, barely glancing at the man she had almost hit with the door.

"Somewhere expensive," said Roy before Alex could take a step, answering his last question. They shared a bland look before Alex nodded and then turned away, mumbled a greeting to Pinako, and closed the door behind him.

Before his mother could start, Roy was out of his chair, heading towards his coffee machine to refresh his cup. He knew he had to answer for some of the things he'd said while in L.A. but he didn't want to do it like this; like he was about to be interrogated for some crime.

"What is the meaning of this, Roy?" his mother asked, coming to a stop at his elbow. "Tell me you're not serious."

Roy grit his teeth, working his jaw so that his molars ground against each other. Without answering her, he poured the coffee into his half full mug and turned away, going back to the conference table. He wished fervently that he could take back his verbal slip and erase his mother's knowledge about his sexual status forever.

"This is neither the time, nor the place to have this discussion, mother," growled Roy, his attention on his coffee mug as he added unneeded extra creams and sugars.

"You _will_ make the time, and you _will_ discuss this with me." Roy looked over his shoulder to see Pinako with her feet planted shoulder width apart, with her hands on her hips, staring at him like he assumed a scientist would when they found something particularly interesting.

Whatever was going through his mother's mind or whatever outcome she seemed to think this would achieve, he was not pleased that she seemed to think that she could barge in here and demand answers. He had long since grown past the time when he had to answer to any one but himself with regards to his life.

"Now, you can't possibly be gay," Pinako continued. "You need to get married and have children. I've already talked to the family doctor, and he says that sometimes men go through phases. Oh, if only your father was still alive—"

"You did what?" roared Roy, slamming his mug so hard onto the table top that coffee splashed over the papers. "It's no one's damn business but my own! And I certainly don't appreciate you coming in here and behaving like you can control _this_ aspect of my life! How dare you divulge this to the family doctor, or anyone else for that matter!"

His mother's mouth hung open loosely, while Roy blinked at his outburst. Where the _hell_ had that come from? It sounded as bitter in his mind as he was sure it must have sounded to his mother. As the moments slowly passed, the heavy silence only increased as neither of them knew how to break it.

0-0-0-0-

It was late by the time Edward finally woke at nine—late for him, anyway. It had been hard to go to sleep knowing that Roy was just across the yard, alone like he was. Once again, he couldn't help but compare his relationship with Russell to the one that might be growing between him and Roy.

Russell was the very picture of consideration and kindness, always looking out for ways to take care of him or see to his needs. It had been a good way for Edward to learn how to stand on his own feet with Russell backing him like that. Even after breaking it off with him, Russell continued to be supportive and encouraging. Without Russell, he didn't like to think about how he would have survived those two years away from home. He was sure that he would have only retreated further into himself and come back much worse.

By having Russell in his life, he had been able to find the confidence to move forward. He was able to pursue a lofty goal, find balance within himself, and know that he was a strong person. What would Russell think of him now? He had _both_ Mustang siblings after him. The more he thought about it, the more surreal it became. In the past, even having Winry after him would have been a dream come true. But now…

Roy on the other hand, inspired such strong emotions, such strong feelings of lust and want, that it had pretty much blindsided him. In all the time that they had grown up together, Edward had never looked to Roy as anything other then someone to be avoided. He now found himself wanting to be around Roy as much as Roy had when they were younger. But he found himself holding back from going after Roy like he wanted to do.

The morning after had started out so great. There had been no unease from either him or Roy, but as the day progressed and they had to leave the room, people's perceived reactions started to weigh heavily on him. He knew that he was most likely over thinking things, but he couldn't stop himself from doing so. From what he had gathered from Roy's comments and unspoken body language, Roy had yet to come out. He just assumed that it was due to his position as CEO of Mustang Inc., but what if there were other concerns that he was unaware of.

If Roy hadn't been so caught up in the demands from his company yesterday, he was sure he'd have been able to talk to Roy more and figure out just where 'they' stood now. Even in the car ride back to the house had been strangely uneasy and quiet. Edward was once again left to his own thoughts as Roy continued to work, either on the phone or on the papers in his lap.

Roy wasn't kidding when he said that he was busy, but this seemed a bit excessive. It was after business hours and here was Roy, still working hard. In fact, it seemed very unfair to Edward.

Raising his arms up towards the headboard, Edward groaned as he tightened all his muscles in a morning stretch. He wondered idly what Roy was doing this very moment and imagining what it would be like to see him in his office working. Picturing Roy in his expensively tailored suits and silk ties made him smile lazily. It also made his morning erection just a little bit harder.

He slowly brought his hand down, slipping under the covers and trailing along his bare stomach to dip below his sleep pants, gripping his penis in a lose fist. A muffled groan filled his dim bedroom as he pulled on his rigid flesh. Edward pictured Roy doing this to him, pulling at him and kissing his lips in that amazing way of his. It was torture, but he wanted Roy more and more with each slide of his hand.

--

"I'm sorry. That was inappropriate of me," murmured Pinako, having the grace to look very mortified.

Roy looked down at his coffee splattered blueprints and cringed. He knew that he would have to tell his mother and sister eventually about his orientation, but he didn't want it to come out like this. He wanted to do it on his own terms, in his own way. He may have acted blasé with Edward about his sexual preference, but he wasn't truly accustomed to talking about it with anyone. Rubbing a hand across his forehead in frustration, Roy sighed, sinking into his chair.

He didn't even know _how_ to talk about this to his family, and he had to be all flustered from Edward's kiss to go and blab that fact to his mother without thought. Ugh, he could kick himself for his foolishness now.

"Here. Let me clean that," he heard Pinako say, and then the click of her heals across his marble bathroom floor. She came back with a towel and sopped up the brown liquid leaving stains behind.

The plans were ruined.

--

Soft panting breaths filled his room as Edward worked his hand over himself. He suddenly remembered how fantastic it had felt to have Roy's erection rub against his. Roy's kisses, even remembering them, left him feeling weak with desire.

His hand sped up as the coil in his stomach tightened nicely. He wondered if Roy would want to do something today, or if he even had time to do something. The more he thought about it, the more he was starting to realize that even though Roy was annoying sometimes, he was really fun to be around. And Edward found that he wanted to spend more time with him, and soon.

With a sharp gasp, Edward's hand began to lose its smooth rhythm. "Oh god… Roy," moaned Edward, lifting his hips from the mattress jerkily.

--

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap," said Roy quietly.

"Is this why you didn't want to see Celina anymore after your eighteenth birthday? Or have any interest in any of the beautiful women that came through our doors? Is that why you always followed Edward around?"

"Must we do this?" asked Roy wearily, still rubbing his forehead and staring at his lap. "I am what I am; no doctor can change that." He heard his mother heave a sigh. One of the chairs on his immediate right was pulled out from under the table, drawing his eyes upward.

"Roy, honey, you know that I love you," Pinako said seriously, reaching for and taking his hand in hers. "I'm afraid that you have caught me by surprise; I'm very shocked to learn this about you."

Roy turned his head away, looking at the carpet. "What did you think I meant when I said I'd 'take care of Edward'?"

"I thought…well, not this. So, Edward…has feelings for you?" That question drew Roy's attention back to his mother. He carefully gauged her apparent emotions. She seemed more in control of herself now, but there was confusion and the need to understand in her gaze as well. He supposed he could understand that. If he was in her shoes, suddenly finding out that your son or daughter was gay must be quite shocking.

"I'm just doing what needs to be done," murmured Roy, but saying it aloud made a sharp pain slice through him. "I'm just doing what you taught me to do." He pulled his hand from hers, folding it with the other in his lap.

"I didn't teach you this," said Pinako sternly.

"Yes you did," said Roy in return, his tone matching his mother's. He looked up from his lap and met Pinako's calculating gaze steadily.

--

Padding through the house barefoot, Edward wandered into the small living room over the garage to find his father immersed in a one of his books. He had been asleep when he had gotten home last night, so he was sure his da didn't even know he was home yet.

"Da?" His father startled in his chair, looking up quickly and blinking.

"Edward? What a nice surprise," said Hohenheim, placing the book on the small table next to the arm of the chair and standing. With a wide smile, Edward crossed the floor to embrace his father. "How did you do?"

Pulling back, Edward looked up into his father's face. "I got silver," he said, then shrugged.

"That's amazing! Did you get a trophy? Can I see it?"

"Sure!" Edward rushed back to his room and dug through his bag. He hadn't really spared the trophy much thought after taking it and shoving it deeply into his bag as soon as he was back in the hotel room. But his da seemed to be excited for his placing, so he was going to put his bad associations with the trophy aside and let his father be proud for him.

After flinging the contents of his case all over his room, he finally found the smallish trophy and took it back with him to the living room. Hohenheim turned at the sound of his footfalls, and then beamed at him as he held aloft his prize. His father's joy at his win seemed to make it all the better for him. The bitterness of losing first place wasn't so bitter now. Edward was praised and hugged, then dragged into the house to the kitchen where Patricia did the whole ritual all over again with the addition of tears. Everyone was so pleased and happy for him that it made him feel like an ass for even devaluing his second place at all.

When all the furor died down, Edward pulled his father and Patricia aside, back up to his father's living room. They took seats next to each other on the sofa and watched him. He had realized that he needed to tell them about how close Russell really was and how close Roy could soon be. He had always meant to tell his da, and Patricia was as close to a mother as he was ever going to get. He wanted to come clean because he wanted to pursue Roy. He was certain that Roy had feelings for him. And he was certain that he had feelings for Roy.

But now that it had come to it, he couldn't seem to find the right way to start. So he paced back and forth beyond the couch, the eyes of his father and Patricia following him curiously.

"Uh, da…Patricia… I…um, wanted to talk—privately—about…something…er…" stammered Edward, pausing his pacing only long enough to cast a pleading look at them. Both his da and Patricia were sitting there patiently, waiting for him to say whatever was on his mind. There were no demands for him to speak up, no shouts; just waiting. He quickly turned away and resumed his pacing. Running a hand through his lose hair, Edward squeezed his eyes shut and couldn't think of what—or how—he wanted to continue.

He could tell by the look on their faces that they had no inculcation as to what he was about to tell them—or try to tell them. Okay, he was undeniably attracted to Roy—hell, he'd been _this_ close to having sex with him. He knew that he liked men—had even been with one in his past. He assumed that he also liked women, since he wasn't grossed out at the thought of touching one (namely Winry).

He knew that coming out to his da and Patricia wouldn't be an issue with them. They were so understanding and had always been there for him. He knew that would be surprised by what he was going to tell them, but they wouldn't care. He would have their support no matter what. But that didn't make it any easier to shatter the image of himself that they had of him. He knew that Patricia hoped that he would find a woman to love him, settle down, and have children one day. That would most likely never happen now, and he worried about how that might affect her.

"Edward, honey, whatever it is, I hope you know that you can tell us," said Patricia, breaking through his worried musings.

Edward nodded vaguely at Patricia, too wrapped up in his own worries to really acknowledge what was being said to him. Taking one large, deep breath, Edward planted his feet…and felt like the ground had just disappeared as he looked at the two of them sitting on the couch and watching—waiting. He took a stilted breath, opened his mouth, but no sound came forth.

Hohenheim raised his eyebrow at him inquiringly. Closing his mouth with a click of his teeth, Edward swallowed hard, and then tried again.

"I'm—well…" That sense of falling hit him all at once again. "I'm…" mumbled Edward much softer then before. "Er…well…you see, I sort of…like…I mean I do like…ah…" He could feel his face burning in embarrassment and shame. He looked down at the ground and his sock covered feet in mortification. "I—I'm gay…"

--To Be Continued—

Where are all my reviewers?! I only got a dismal amount of reviews for the last chapter /sniff/ Please share your thoughts even if it just a few words, I'd love to hear from you guys!


	21. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist

Disclaimer: I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

One of the last chapters to be beta'd by ZaKai. I'll soon be without a beta… So, I'm back to school and working full time. I hope that it won't affect my updating too much.

(1) A made up name/company.

* * *

-

**Chapter 20**

"Does Winry know yet?" asked Roy when the silence became long and thick. He didn't look up from his lap as his mother shifted in her chair.

"She doesn't know."

"Good," said Roy, getting up out of his chair. "If you'll excuse me then, I have a conference call soon." Roy held out his hand, indicating that he would walk his mother to his office door. "I would appreciate it if you don't say anything to her," added Roy as Pinako rose from the chair.

"Roy, darling, you can't—"

"For now," amended Roy. That seemed to stall his mother's protests, but he knew that it wasn't over. He idly wondered what sort of reaction his sister would have to his news, but figured that being as fickle as he knew her to be, she wouldn't care other then maybe that he might take some of her flings away. Now, that struck him as funny.

He watched Pinako walk past Alex's desk and towards her own then looked over at the man seated at his desk.

"This came for you," said Alex, his massive hand holding out a couriered box. Raising an eyebrow curiously, Roy took the surprisingly heavy package with both hands and retreated back into his office. Placing the box on top of his desk, he rooted through his desk drawer looking for scissors, his letter opener—something that would cut through the tape.

"_The Environmental call is on line three,"_ came Alex's voice through the intercom, startling Roy slightly.

"Alright," said Roy, depressing the button so that Alex would hear him. He abandoned the box and lifted the phone.

* * *

"Oh dear," said Patricia, making Edward's stomach feel like it had just fell onto the floor where she stomped on it. Hohenheim stared at him blankly causing Edward's vision to go blurry. This wasn't how it was supposed to go… They were supposed to not care. They were supposed to be okay with this. That was why he hadn't considered that he would get a negative reaction, because he knew that they would be fine…

He could feel the blood leave his face, leaving him feeling lightheaded and slightly sick to his stomach. He swallowed stiffly—numbly—as he blankly looked over at the two adults still seated on the couch. Patricia had one hand pressed against her lips, looking at him like he was some sort of freak. He was a freak…

And his da…he seemed like he was still waiting for him to say something. Like maybe, 'ha, ha, da, it was all a joke, wasn't that funny?', but…his tongue was wooden in his mouth. They were looking at him with accusatory eyes that pinned Edward to the floor and made him silent.

And now they didn't like him anymore. They were going to get rid of him, make him leave the house. He had heard tons of horror stories about people coming out and getting all sorts of shit because of it. They were going to yell at him—

"Oh—no, dear," said Patricia, quickly getting out of her seat and rushing to his side where he was enveloped in a tight hug. "You misunderstand, please don't look like that, honey," crooned Patricia, pushing his head down over her shoulder and patting his head.

Too stunned to react to her, Edward just stood there numbly while he was held and rocked slightly. He stared at his father over Patricia's shoulder. He had yet to move or seemingly react to his confession. His father had always been so gentle and understanding; this silence was very unusual. Usually, his da would be the one holding him, letting him know that he was there for him while murmuring encouraging words. Without his da's support, he would have never made it through school in one piece. He needed that _now_.

And what would he think of him when he said that he might be in love with Roy Mustang?

"Da?" asked Edward, his voice small and unsure sounding. Hohenheim blinked, seeming to come out of his trance. He just wanted his father to tell him it was okay; that it didn't matter.

"Hohenheim, please; your son needs you," said Patricia, breaking the hug to look at his father, but keeping him close with the arm around his shoulders.

"Russell was…er…my first boyfriend," said Edward in that same tiny voice. Patricia turned and looked at him while he spoke, rubbing her hand across his shoulder blade. His father continued to watch him quietly. Why he was telling him this when it was obvious that it was already too much, he wasn't sure. But he knew that he had to explain this somehow.

"We…never…not all the way…but, I like Winry—she's a girl—so maybe I'm not all gay. Bi…or…I don't know." His father sat there unmoving. Edward stepped out of Patricia's protective hold and moved towards Hohenheim, stopping a few feet away to look down at him.

"I'm still me. I haven't changed, really. I'm still me." His hand fisted at his side in his nervousness.

Finally his da rose from his chair and stood before him, looking down from his height into Edward's slightly upturned face, his gaze roaming across his face. "I'm very disappointed in you," said his father, so low that he almost didn't hear it. Edward's eyes went wide, tearing up upon hearing that. "I need to wash the Benz."

His father walked past him without another word and headed outside.

How could this be happening? His father was supposed to be understanding and loving. They were all they had, and he was just going to walk out the front door without any sort of response other then he was disappointing?

"Don't worry," murmured Patricia. Edward was numb to her touch as the tears slipped down his pale cheeks and dropped to the floor. "He's just shocked, I'm sure he didn't mean it like it sounded. I'll talk to him, honey, don't cry now."

This really _was_ a horrible week. He came home; it was all good and then Roy ruined it by revealing his identity to Winry. But Winry liked him anyway and then he punched Roy in the face after being treated so horribly. Roy had ambushed him and took him to L.A., but he then got to spend time with Roy. But now he had to be realistic and face the fact that despite what he was feeling for Roy, Roy might not feel anything for him. Scar assaulted him and called him derogatory names. He got silver, not the gold he had planned on, but then he was given all sorts of happy, proud comments when he showed off his trophy. He had come to terms with the fact that he was gay, and as soon as he came out to his father, he was rejected.

Cold.

It was too much, too fast. He really didn't like all this change all at once. There was only so much he could deal with at one time. And having all this thrust upon him—god, he wanted Roy to be with him right now, but he knew that would never happen. Roy was so good at making his worries disappear. He needed him to make this go away; he wanted Roy to hold him. Patricia was kind and soothing, but she wasn't touching him in the way that Roy could. Fuck, he wanted a kiss.

* * *

The stillness of the room wasn't unheard of. Many a time, even occupied, the room enjoyed a serene quiet that remained undisturbed for hours. But today, Edward wished that he wasn't being left to his own devices. He wished his father would come talk to him instead of avoiding him whenever he wandered through the kitchen or when he'd happened to be downstairs shortly after his confession to get a breath of fresh air. Both times he had run into his da, his father had dropped his gaze to the floor and left.

It hurt.

So, he had retreated to his room to sulk and feel horrible for telling. He wished he could take it back and make it so it had never happened. He had always been so _sure_ that his da wouldn't bat an eye at his orientation. He hadn't even worried about his snap decision to tell his da and Patricia about his preference. If only he had known that it would go down like this, he would have kept his mouth shut and let his da think whatever he wanted to.

Listlessly, Edward stared up at the ceiling from his position on the floor. He lay between the dresser and the small space from it to the far wall. As a child, he had often spent his time in this corner reading with a pillow and his favorite stuffed bear. As a teenager, it had turned into his homework and daydream about Winry nook until he had left for Paris.

"Fuck…" muttered Edward peevishly. He knew that he _should_ go down there and force da to face him. But, in this, he didn't want a confrontation.

The phone broke through his swirl of unsettled thoughts, forcing him to get to his feet; groaning over how stiff his body had become from laying on the floor for so long. He picked up the receiver on his bed side table and mumbled an unintelligible hello.

"_Edward; good afternoon,"_ said Roy. Edward's spirits lifted immediately upon hearing his voice.

"Roy." A grin of happiness spread across his face. His crappy day made a one-eighty. But, even knowing how his father had reacted to his news; it didn't stop from feeling glad to hear Roy's voice again. "I wondered if I would get to hear from you today. How are you?" he asked, and felt a twinge of guilt that dialed back his happiness a bit. His father would be very upset if—when—he knew who he liked.

"_Very fine, considering. You?"_

"Meh," grunted Edward. He didn't want to unload on Roy. It was enough that Roy had called. He wasn't feeling too happy around here at the moment. "Are you busy?"

"_A little bit. But, I'll make time for you,"_ said Roy. The way Roy put extra, subtle, emphasis on 'you' made Edward grin wider and his guilt was whisked away. _"I just wanted to know if you're free this evening."_

"Yeah, sure. What've you got in mind?" He could certainly use any excuse to get out of the house and away from the tense atmosphere. And maybe now, having Roy to himself he could make Roy understand that he didn't want casual, he wanted more…much more from Roy.

"_Oh, I don't know. How about dinner for starters? I know this nice little place—"_

"What about people seeing us? Your career—"

"_Don't be foolish, Edward. There is nothing for you to worry about—can't understand where you got that idea in the first place," _said Roy with a chuckle.

"You sure?" asked Edward, not quite believing it. Then why hadn't he seen Roy with anyone before? If Roy didn't care then he should have seen him with more people. It didn't make any sense to him. But, maybe he could ask about it later.

"_Can you get your father to drive you in? I was hoping to meet for three."_

"Ah—sure," said Edward, fidgeting the fabric of his t-shirt through his unoccupied hand. He'd take the train or the bus—a cab even—but he wasn't going to be asking his da for anything right now.

"_Good—oh! There's a package that came for you today, but it was addressed to me. You'll want to see this."_

"A package? From who?"

"_Just wait until you get here. So…three alright?"_ asked Roy, suddenly sounding uncharacteristically unsure. Edward blinked at his bedside table lamp, slightly dumbfounded.

"Yeah, okay." Roy was nervous too?

"_Great." _

* * *

Hohenheim watched from the corner of his eye as his son headed down the external stairs to the pavement. A pang of remorse stung his heart.

His boy—his little, shy, clumsy, book-loving son…was gay.

As he watched surreptitiously from beside the car, he raked his eyes down his son's body, trying to pin-point what was _gay_ about his son. Dressed as he was, in his new clothes—so different from those baggy things he used to wear; a well tailored, pinstriped shirt with comfortable, but clean lined pants that accentuated his lower body--Hohenheim couldn't help but wonder, was being well dressed a gay trait?

His gaze settled on his son's long, deep golden hair; much like his own, it was long and pulled back into a high ponytail. He had always preferred wearing his long hair pulled back at the nape of his neck. If long hair wasn't gay—because Hohenheim certainly wasn't gay—could the location of the ponytail be an indicator of gay-ness?

Edward paused, looking back at him with a pained expression on his face just before he went around the corner of the garage. Hohenheim thought about his son's involvement in martial arts. It was something that he had encouraged his son to take up, thinking that it would be the proper vehicle for his son to grow. Would a gay man take up a sport that was the very epitome male dominance and testosterone? Wouldn't doing such a thing make him more straight than gay?

With a slumping of his muscular shoulders, Edward turned away and went around the corner of the building leaving Hohenheim to his thoughts.

From what Hohenheim knew of gay—and admittedly it wasn't much—they liked to dress in outrageous clothes and wax their bodies so that they could look more feminine and pretty. His son wasn't like that…or was he? Maybe he dressed up in private. That boy Russell might have shown Edward all sorts of things. Why on earth did he think sending Edward away to Paris would be good for him? Look at what has happened because of it. His son was _gay_.

This made him incredibly uneasy.

Patricia was giving him the cold shoulder ever since he had walked out on them hours earlier. He felt especially upset for causing her grief, but he couldn't yet bring himself to change the situation. He just couldn't wrap his head around this new and startling development.

In time perhaps…but now, he needed to think about this.

* * *

"Sir, the Hugheses are here for their meeting," said Alex, after he'd closed the door behind him. Usually, the large man would use the intercom, but seeing as Roy wasn't scheduled to meet with them, Alex was trying to be diplomatic.

"All of them?" asked Roy warily, letting his quarterly report land on his desktop with a flop. Alex nodded. Looking past the bulk of his aid, he could just see Maes, his arm around his wife's shoulders and pointing to the floor to ceiling piece of art work that lined the hall directly across from his office. "Find my mother. Escort them into Winry's office in the mean time; God knows it's not used for anything else."

Alex nodded his massive head and closed the door behind him. Roy hurriedly tidied up his desktop, feeling annoyed that he was having yet another distraction to interrupt his day. At least he had gotten Edward to agree to meet him this evening. He glanced at the large box resting on the low console table behind his desk. He wasn't too sure what he felt about its contents. But it was a very touching gesture on their part.

Pulling his suit coat off the back of his chair, Roy slipped his arms into the sleeves as he made for the door. He met his mother in the hallway.

"What does he want _now_," wondered Pinako, her tone showing how trying this was to her. Roy felt the same.

"I'm sure I don't know. You've seen some of the things he's been faxing me?" mumbled Roy as they neared Winry's office.

"Goodness, yes. You've been very good to deal with him all this while," said Pinako. Roy grunted and reached out to pull the door to Winry's office open, allowing his mother to precede him.

"Ah, there they are," said Maes, a huge grin spreading across his face when he turned from the window. Gracia was seated in one of the large, over stuffed chairs that dotted the floor. The whole office was decorated with modern furniture and geometric patterned fabrics. Tall bamboo, reaching up to the ceiling sat next to the window next to Maes, and a large desk sat unused at the back of the room.

Another floor to ceiling painting took up the wall to Roy's right, before it was a long, low bench on which his mother took a seat. Pinako leaned to the side to greet Gracia, placing a hand over the other woman's forearm. As his mother entertained Gracia, Roy approached Maes, nodding a greeting.

"Maes, good of you to come in," said Roy amiably.

"Roy, my boy; how are you?" asked Maes, slapping a jovial hand into his shoulder. Roy grit his teeth.

"Can I offer you a seat; coffee—a sedative?" grunted Roy allowing a bit of his annoyance to show through.

Maes chuckled. Roy looked over at his mother but she was being dragged into a conversation about wedding invitation paper and what the best style would be. No help there.

"No, Roy. I'm just here to ask you about Winry."

"My sister?" This time, Pinako did meet his eyes with a worried tilt to her head. "Was there something the matter?"

"Oh, don't mind him," Gracia said, waving a hand in dismissal at her husband.

"It's just that we—"

"Just you, dear," Gracia interrupted.

"_I _feel that our future daughter-in-law isn't paying our son the proper amount of attention for someone about to be married. I've been checking around about that boy with the long hair, it seems that she told the whole emergency staff about her intentions towards him." Maes's green eyes became sharp and intense as they watch Roy's face.

And Roy felt himself become angry at the way Maes subtly inflected the word 'boy' with just enough scorn to insinuate something more then what was said. No one talked about Edward that way.

"I would hate for our business merger to be affected by your sister's flighty ways…"

"Are you threatening me?" asked Roy, his voice turning hard against his wishes. He knew that Maes was, of course, but he wanted to drive the point home, and all Maes did was shrug.

"The Todiko (1) Corporation has approached me about a buyout. Seems like a _very_ good offer," said Maes, looking smug and smiling at Roy.

"He's threatening me," Roy said, looking over at his mother. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Roy, dear…?"

Roy turned away from her and turned back to Maes. "Now look here," growled Roy, his patience all but used up. "The merger between our companies _will_ go through and you needn't worry about my sister. She'll marry Alphonse; I'm making sure of that."

"Oh?" Maes looked at him with new interest. "Is that so? I wonder if that's true. Just where did you run off to this week? What was so important that you had to leave? You've been very vague about the whole thing. Your aide mentioned something about a tournament. If you have time to waste on that, you should be working on the merger instead and not off playing with the chauffeur's son."

"Now; Maes, Gracia; how about I take you out for an early lunch?" his mother rose from the low bench and placed a warm hand over Roy's bicep and squeezed.

"Oh, Pinako, that sounds lovely; doesn't it, Maes?" said Gracia, a hard note to her voice when she turned to glare at him. Faced with his wife's ire, Maes's quickly turned his attitude around.

"Well, it was a nice visit. I think we'll take you up on that offer, Pinako. Roy," said Maes, nodding at Roy, the calculating gaze gone from his eyes, but it still saw everything Roy couldn't seem to hide. Roy nodded back.

He watched them leave, his mother guiding them out with impromptu plans for a lunch venue in the works. Roy was shaking with anger. As soon as the door to Winry's office closed, cutting off the jovial conversation, Roy slumped down into one of Winry's polka doted chairs and noticing that his hands were tightly fisted. He forced his hands to open and grip the arms of the chair.

He couldn't even say for sure where this anger came from, but as soon as Maes had insinuated that he was inappropriately spending his time with Edward he had the intense urge to punch Maes's lights out. Even now, with him gone, Roy was still quite angry. He watched as his hands re-curled into tight fists making the knuckles white.

And his mother had seen right through him, too.

* * *

Edward took a cab into town; and, from there, he took the train into the city. It had been some time since he'd last taken this method to get to the city. It was sort of nice. He could look out at the passing scenery and the homes and just let his mind wander.

Over and over, Roy and his shared passion played itself out in his mind's eye interspaced with this father reaction to his sexuality. The two events playing off one another to the point that when the train stopped in the heart of Manhattan, Edward was very unsure of whether he should go see Roy or not.

He knew, almost viscerally, that something was going to happen and whatever this thing coming turned out to be it was going to happen soon…and he might not like the outcome. It made him hesitate to make his way towards Mustang Inc. and he drifted around the shops in an effort to give himself more time to decide. As he shuffled his way through numerous over priced store fronts, he found that he was at an impasse. Should he meet with Roy tonight? Or should he just go home?

Going home meant having to face that tense atmosphere and maybe confronting his father again. While he knew that he had to sit down with his father, it wasn't like he wanted to do it right now. The time apart might actually be good for da to sort out his reactions and be calmer about the whole thing. He hoped. Just thinking about those words coming from his father's mouth… "I'm very disappointed in you." He could hear it reverberating in his skull.

But…

Staying in the city meant facing Roy and whatever Roy would say to him when he asked about where 'they' stood—if anywhere at all. And after seeing how his da reacted to him, did he even want to let Roy know that he wanted more than just a fling. If telling da that he was gay did _this_ then why make things even worse?

Edward found that choosing between these two crappy options made him procrastinate. It was well past the three o'clock time he was supposed to meet up with Roy and now going on six. He knew he needed to make a decision. He couldn't stay in the city forever. The train home would stop at some point, and he didn't have enough money to tide him over with a hotel room, dinner, and so on. He really should just head to the office and meet with Roy. Even if nothing came of the meeting at least he could go home with Roy.

And as Edward finally decided that he would see Roy, he found that his feet had already taken him to the Mustang Tower. He had stopped one street away from the large sixty-seven floor building and had to crane his neck back to be able to see the whole thing. Edward's stomach fluttered with apprehension, but he dropped his gaze to street level and forced his feet to cross the to the other side.

In the foyer, Edward stared at the company logo which consisted of a large stylized 'M' surrounded by a circle in brass. There was a promotional commercial playing on a large, flat screen TV, advertising the industries that Mustang Inc. was part of. And they were many.

Oh, what was he thinking? He shouldn't be here! He was a lowly chauffeur's son. He was a fucking man! What was going on here? What did Roy _want_ from him? What could he even _offer_ to someone like Roy, who had _everything_?

Edward turned and looked through the glass doors at the street beyond—and hesitated. But…_he_ did want something from Roy.

Ed turned back to face the interior of the building and took one step towards the elevators. People dressed much better then he was, in suits and carrying briefcases or holding phones to their ears and looking important, brushed past him. Some stared at him curiously, others paid him no mind. He was used to the latter.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Edward waded through the exiting workers towards the elevator. He didn't need to check what floor Roy's office was on. He knew from his da that his office was on the top floor. So, when the doors slid shut behind him silently, he pressed the sixty-seventh button with a shaking finger.

The ride, though most likely fast, was _eons_ to Edward. And god, when the doors opened to a deserted floor, he almost turned back. But, his body had other intentions and it pulled him from the car. He wandered hesitatingly through the vast, high ceiling office until he found a large, bald man seated behind a desk, working diligently.

Edward had moved so silently though the office, that the man wasn't aware of his presence. He knew that no matter what he did, he would most likely startle the large man.

"Um…" murmured Edward, inching forward slightly. As he knew it would, the muscular man's head snapped upwards in fright.

"Edward Elric?" the man asked. Edward blinked that his name was known, but then, of course this man would, Roy would have told him that he was coming. "He's been expecting you." The burly man rose with surprising grace from his chair and rounded the desk towards him. "This way, please."

Feeling strange to have these formalities directed at him, Edward moved towards a heavy wooden door at the man's bidding.

"Edward Elric is here to see you, sir," said the man upon opening the door. He then stepped to the side, allowing Edward to enter.

Edward's eyes landed on Roy's face just as he was pulling his gaze back from the many miles he had travelled. He couldn't help it. Roy's face was so open and free of anything— "Hi," he said, rather then letting his thoughts wonder more then they should.

"Edward," said Roy, his voice turning stern. "I didn't hear from you. I was getting worried."

"Sorry 'bout that," said Edward, moving towards the center of the room before he lost his nerve. Roy stood from his chair and came around the desk towards him. Without hesitation, Roy took hold of his shoulders and gently pulled him forward to place a tender kiss on to his forehead.

"Please let me know next time. You don't know what that did to me," murmured Roy as he was enveloped by slightly faltering arms.

"Sorry," said Edward again, wrapping his own arms around Roy's waist and sighing. This…actually felt more _right_ then from before. It was stupid to think that he didn't belong here, in Roy's arms, when it felt like this.

"Do I dare ask what kept you?" Roy's voice rumbled.

"Nothing—much," Edward said, just catching himself before he spilled everything. "I was just thinking," he explained, because he needed to say something to cover his slip and it wasn't wrong.

"Deep thoughts," said Roy, pulling Edward back so that he could stare into his eyes. It sounded like a question, so Edward just smiled vaguely. "Are you hungry? We could still go out."

"Yeah, I'm pretty hungry. Is this a date?" blurted Edward, half fearful that it was and that would mean—a lot actually. He knew that for 'this' to have the label of date would mean very much to him right now.

"Of course it is. Now, don't be getting those foolish ideas again that people will see us, because I don't care if they do," teased Roy, tapping his nose and smiling that wonderfully sexy smile of his.

"Right," said Edward, laughing to cover his mix of happy and nervous emotions. _Yes!_ he shouted in his mind. He had to hold his body still because he wanted to drop to his knees and pump the air in giddy triumph.

"Well, let me just get my jacket, and we'll head out," said Roy. When Roy turned, Edward quickly punched the air, grinning like a fool. "Oh, yes. Take a look at this," said Roy.

Edward snapped his body back to his original standing position when Roy looked over his shoulder at him. His eyes were drawn to the large white box resting behind Roy's chair. Curious, Edward moved towards Roy, seeing him in the corner of his eye as he slipped his arms into his jacket.

The box flaps were folded over, hiding the contents and Edward studied the label with interest. It was addressed to him care of Roy's office. Which…seemed really strange. Who would even think to send him something via Roy? Why would they even bother? The return address was from somewhere in the mid-west and fuck knows he didn't know anyone who lived out there. Blinking in confusion, Edward reached out and opened the flaps. He was presented with a box full of packing peanuts.

Shooting a curious glance at Roy, Edward reached up and dug his hands into the foam forms, feeling about for the contents. After a moment of fumbling, his left hand caught on a hard and unusual object. He lifted the item up, peanuts dropping haphazardly all over Roy's cabinet and floor.

"Oops," muttered Edward, smiling lopsidedly at Roy. The answering grin he got begged to be kissed off, but Edward caught sight of the box's contents. "What the—what is this?" asked Edward, shocked. He looked at the base and read, 'First place winner, World Open Mixed Martial Arts Tournament.'

"Its first place," said Roy. He reached into the box and dug around for a moment, spilling more peanuts onto the floor. Edward blinked at the trophy in his hands in wonder. Why…why did he have this?

"Here it is," said Roy, pulling another package wrapped very poorly, as if by a child and a thick letter. "I didn't open anything further once I found these," he said and handed him the present.

Edward carefully placed the trophy on the counter and took the items from Roy's hand. Printed across the envelope in a shaky child's hand was his name in bright pink crayon. Wanting an explanation more then anything, Edward flipped the envelope over and pulled out the yellow lined paper.

Roy shuffled behind him, looking over his shoulder. Edward didn't mind, but since Roy was sneaking a not-so-secret peek, Edward thought it fair that he get to lean on him. A warm hand settled on his hip and a chin on the side of his head, and he began to read.

_Dear EDward,_

_Thank yu for leting my daddy win the contess. Becose of that I was aloud to get my opuration that will help me brethe. Nana is also vury happy that i will be able to go outside again_

_here is a drawng of my dog._

Edward traced his hand over the childish drawing of a black dog sitting under the green tree. Standing beside the dog was a girl, supposedly the writer of the letter and she was smiling. He flipped the page. There was another letter addressed to him, written in a flowing hand that Edward supposed was a woman's.

_Kind Sir,_

_I thank you with my deepest love for allowing my son to help my granddaughter. For most of her short life, Nina has been afflicted with a deadly heart condition that would have been terminal if not for her recent operation. _

_When she was born we knew that this little ray of light was in dire trouble. Her mother, bless her soul, was a drug addict and gave her up to Islam right away. But she was underdeveloped and we didn't have health care insurance. Many of her firsts happened at the hospital. Her first word, her first steps, her first medical emergency. Let me tell you, it was a very tense time for all of us. We did what we could._

_Islam worked four jobs to make sure she was taken care of and still he pursued his dream of fighting. Little Nina and Islam were inseparable when she was well enough to leave the hospital. She went with him during his deliveries and watched as he trained himself hard in the gym. If not for Islam's over seas travels, she would have followed him there as well. _

_I know my son has been behaving badly, and don't you worry none, he's been put in his place. Though there is no excuse for his behavior, he did it to make sure our little angel would make it. _

_I hope you can forgive him his transgressions and I pray for you and your family._

_With much love and gratitude,_

_Nana._

And still there was one more letter. Edward flipped the page and read.

_Edward,_

_I write to you in acknowledgment. You are a very good fighter._

_Scar._

Edward snorted and checked the back of the page for more. But that was it. He supposed that was all he was about to get, too. Still…

"Interesting," said Roy, his jaw moving against Edward's head as he spoke.

"I'm not sure what to feel about this," mumbled Edward, flipping back through the papers to look at the little girl's picture.

"Open this," directed Roy, pulling the package from Edward's hands and placing it atop the letters.

With a shrug, Edward pulled apart the wrapping paper, which was really only colored construction paper to find a nicely framed picture of Edward, Rick and Leo at the tournament during their weapons fight. Edward was mid-air, Leo was lunging forward and Rick was just about to move as he looked up at Edward. It was a fantastic shot and done with a high-speed camera.

"Wow," said Edward appreciatively.

"I think that almost makes up for how Scar treated us," said Roy, finally moving away from his back.

Edward placed the frame and the letter beside the trophy and let his eyes travel across the award. And felt nothing. "Let's get that food, I'm hungry," said Edward, turning to give Roy a grin. He might not have earned first place at the tournament, but he was certainly going to win Roy's heart.

--To Be Continued--

Thanks to everyone who reviewed last time. I'm very thankful for every single comment that you leave me :D


	22. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

Spellchecked, proofread, un-beta'd. Actually, it was brain-beta'd (which is just work on plot not structure) by Yaoi_Girl69 :3 Thanks, my love. I love hearing your comments and concrit~!

**Chapter 21**

This was unheard of, truly.

In all her years of being pursued by men, never, _ever_ had a man not tried to jump through hoops in order to get her attention…but then, here was a man who was definitely doing just that. Winry tapped her fingers in a quick rhythm on the polish wood of the telephone table, thinking. There was certainly nothing _wrong_ with _her_, so the fault must be with Edward. Something was preventing him from calling her or chasing after her.

But what?

Winry shifted her weight as the butt of the crutch began to irritate her sensitive underarm. She was due to get a walking brace for her leg later today and it couldn't come at a more opportune time. Being able to move a little more freely would mean she wouldn't have to wait on Edward to find her; she would be able to seek _him_ out.

That was another thing she didn't do; go chasing after a man. But she had made her slow, cumbersome way out to the garage to do just that. A lot of good it did her though. No one was home and peeking into the windows didn't tell her anything other then it was dim inside. And much to her surprise, she had even headed down to the kitchens in search of Patricia. Winry remembered how much the woman had hovered around them as children. She assumed that Edward would be close to her since she knew he didn't have a mother.

But that also proved pointless.

Thinking back on her early treatment of Edward as a young girl, she knew that she had felt superior to him because she had a mother…but really she shouldn't have, since Edward had a father and she didn't. It had made her mad that Patricia had taken that role on for herself. When she learned that Edward had a crush on her, she used that for her own gain, drawing pleasure from having a personal slave to order around. Plus, it pulled him away from Patricia's apron stings.

She sighed loudly, moving away from the phone table to make her way to the back porch. It was a gorgeous day and it seemed a shame to waste it moping. If she had _any_ idea that Edward would turn out look like this, would look like _this_…perhaps she would have been kinder. But then that just made her sound shallow…

She knew that she was _very_ shallow most times. But that was only because she got away with it. No one had ever spent the time to get to know her—the real Winry. They only knew the rich woman looking for some easy play and fun. She had layers…even if Roy liked to tell her she didn't. No one really knew what she was capable of and she liked it like that. She wanted people to underestimate her. It gave her an advantage. If Roy ever heard her say that aloud, she would probably get a fast hug and have him beam at her for thinking like him. No… The only one who really knew her was Edward. He had watched her with such devotion even though she continually treated him badly.

Winry sighed again as she passed through the patio doors and into the sunshine. Well, when Edward got back she would make sure that they spent some time together.

And Roy had better not do anything.

She was very suspicious about Roy's involvement in this. She couldn't help the feeling that he was doing something underhanded that she would be mad at him later for. But as of yet, she hadn't figured it out.

* * *

The door creaked open admitting a plump bulbous nose and pudgy face. Round vacant eyes scanned the assembled people hungrily. No one had noticed this new addition into the board room.

Al looked up as the hinges groaned under the weight of the large child hanging on the door handle and smiled. The overweight child had attached himself to Al's hip as soon as he entered the university hospital for this conference. Al had learned quickly that the boy, who's name was Dewy, had been cruelly nicknamed Gluttony by the cleaning staff. He had been quite livid to also learn that because of a few loose tongues, the other kids were calling Dewy Gluttony as well.

"Excuse me," murmured Al to the speaker, standing easily and moving around the long conference table towards the door. Dewy smiled broadly at him as he approached and because the small boy was so open and happy, Al couldn't help but to smile in return.

Al inserted his body into the small opening Dewy had created and pushed the boy back. "Hey, Dewy. What are you up to?" asked Al, closing the door softly behind him and crouching in front of the boy's large belly.

"Doctor Al, can we play now? The other boys won't play with me," mumbled Dewy, looking down at his expansive belly and looking miserable. He stuck a fat finger into his mouth and chewed on the nail.

"Of course, Dewy," said Al, placing his hand over the boys shoulder. "Has your mother come in today?"

"Not yet. Can we play dinkies? Please!"

"Cars again, eh?" said Al with a smile. "In your room or in the playroom?"

"My room!" The boy bounced happily and pulled at Al's hand. Al smiled widely at the exuberance Dewy was displaying. If only everyone would leave the small boy alone, Al knew that he would be fine. But because of insensitive assholes, Dewy would most likely grow up to be an insecure and lonely man. If he could offer up even the smallest amount of kindness, he would do it.

As he followed behind the waddling boy, Al wondered what Winry was doing at this very moment. He hadn't heard from her in a few days, and had been too busy to find time to call her. But he hoped she was missing him just as much as he was missing her. He couldn't wait to see her again and hold her in his arms. He could almost imagine how she would smell as she wiggled happily in his embrace and he would kiss her temple, then her ear, and then her lips.

He needed to find time to call soon. He was missing his fiancé terribly and knew that Winry was feeling the same. He would have to see if he could find some time to buy her a little present before heading home to make up for his insensitivity.

* * *

It wasn't until supper time that Hohenheim felt brave enough to head over to the main house for his meal. All afternoon he was busied himself with cleaning the cars, tidying up the living room (which entailed making the book stacks a little more tidy), walking the grounds, and sitting at the large window in his room and thinking.

Not being able to see Patricia when he wanted to and having to avoid the kitchens had shown him just how _often_ he was usually over there just being around her warm smile and kind heart. She was always handy with a fresh cup of coffee for him, or some witty remark about something she had seen last night on TV in her room.

It seemed like today was the day of revelations, because he suddenly realized that he wasn't just fond of Patricia, he was in love with her and most likely had been for quite some time. He had been so caught up in his day to day goings on that he hadn't seen the forest for the trees. As soon as he _knew_ that he loved Patricia, really loved her, he could look back at all the things she had done for him, subtle things that had worked their way under his skin. And in return, he had been only a good friend. He had listened but not _heard_ what she was saying so loudly.

He always knew that he had feelings for Patricia. How could he not? The way she doted on Edward was enough for him to know that he cared for her. At one point he had even considered pursuing a more tangible relationship but in the end he let it pass.

And now…she was furious with him; rightly so, in his opinion, but Edward _had_ dropped this in his lap with no warning or outward signs that he was aware of. His son was God knows where, so that left Patricia as the only one he could talk to right now…and…he was hungry.

This was why Hohenheim found himself hovering on the back step, having a serious and heated talk with himself on what he would say upon seeing Patricia. He stood to the side of the door and peeked around the short lace curtain to see the other house staff seated around the table finishing off their meals.

Patricia was at the sink, starting the dishes by herself. With a large, fortifying sigh, Hohenheim pushed open the door and stepped into the small mud room. A few eyes from the table looked up at the sound of his entry, but Patricia made no move.

Knowing it was going to be hard to be discrete in a room full of people, Hohenheim decided to forego the supper and moved to help with the dishes. He pulled a dish towel from the stove handle and put himself beside his newly realized love to quietly dry the dishes.

At first, he got no response or acknowledgement of his presence, but slowly, as Patricia began washing the plates, she glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. This was the opening he was looking for, and he smiled slightly at her. When Patricia looked away, he knew that it wasn't okay between them, but it would be.

When the time was right, he was going to tell Patricia just how special she was to him.

* * *

Roy tried to take them to a very swanky, suits only place. But, as Roy failed to mention that important fact in his phone call to Edward earlier that day, Edward was _very_ underdressed. So, to compensate, Roy suggested that they go get Edward a suit from his place, which wasn't far and Edward countered with eating in at Roy's place.

"This seems to becoming a habit with us, don't you think?" asked Roy as they walked side by side in the humid night air. His embarrassment over the choice of dinning locations had yet to fade, but it didn't appear to bother Edward at all.

"What's that?" asked Edward, bumping into his shoulder companionably.

"Us _not_ going to swanky places, but going to places you pick out," said Roy.

"Well, I'm sorry but you keep choosing boring places," said Edward with a smirk.

"Boring?" Roy looked down to catch Edward's smirk turn into a happy grin. "You call those places boring? Do you know how long it takes to get into some of those places?"

"No, and I can't say I want to find out. Is it because you have money that you go there? Or is it because you like it?"

Roy pressed his lips and frowned. He looked down the street and considered Edward question. With a nod, Roy had to agree. He didn't like to go to those places. He only went because it was expected of him. "Okay, you're right, I hate those places."

Edward smiled up at him brilliantly, so Roy bumped into Edward's shoulder back. "So, dare I ask where, or more importantly, what do you want to eat?" asked Roy, leading them across the street. He could see his building just up ahead and felt a prick of unease that he was going to be allowing Edward into _his_ space.

"I don't know… What's your favorite food?" asked Edward, looking over at him.

"I'm sure, I don't know. How about you, what's your favorite food?" Roy countered.

"Hm… Well, you already know that I like Japanese food. I also like to eat beef stroganoff that's been made with sour cream, just like da makes it. Um… Baked potatoes smothered in butter, nice bloody steak that got bacon wrapped around it—"

"Hmm, that last one sounds really good, and some crispy green beans, snow peas and carrots, too," said Roy, his stomach choosing that very moment to growl. Edward laughed. The sound of it so enthralled Roy that he could only look over and grin in enjoyment. When Edward laughed, he glowed with his mirth. It was so infectious that whenever Roy was in Edward's company he noticed that he smiled a lot more then he had ever know himself to do. It was refreshing to be able to banter back and forth or talk about something non-work related.

"Yeah, but what place will deliver that kind of food? Nah, we need to think, like, junk food or something," said Edward, a grin still hanging about on his face.

"Ah, but you see, I have my ways," said Roy, pulling his hand from his pant pocket to tap Edward's nose lightly.

"Who'll bring us food like that?" wondered Edward, his eyes shining at Roy.

"Well, that's where the money comes in—this is me," said Roy, hooking a hand under Edward's elbow to draw him into the foyer of his building.

"You live here?" asked Edward in disbelief.

Roy nodded and then glanced at the doorman holding open the inner door for them to pass. He could understand Edward's shock. The building, while nice, wasn't what someone with his background and wealth would have—_should_ be living in. Not that it wasn't high end, but it was at the lower end of the scale. The old art deco styling on the façade and the foyer were immaculately maintained and it was just one of many reasons why he loved living here. But the most impressive aspect was the view he had from his top floor apartment and he couldn't see himself give that up just for a better address.

"I like it," declared Ed, looking over at Roy with another one of his smiles. He gave Edward's elbow a gentle squeeze and led him towards the elevator. Edward stayed close as they silently travelled up to the top floor of the building.

As they climbed up the floors towards his apartment he became unsure if he could be able to continue to do this. Since leaving the restaurant, he started to have doubts about his whole plan. But when he thought about blowing the deal just for _Edward_, he knew that he couldn't abandon this merger just because he might hurt _one_ person's feelings.

As the elevator neared Roy's floor, Edward slid along the wall until Roy could feel the heat from his body and their arms _just_ touched. Roy knew that he was going to be able to get Edward to sleep with him tonight, but as much as he wanted to, he didn't want to add to Edward's hurt, so he wavered. But having sex again would help his proposal when he finally made it sometime tonight or tomorrow morning.

"Roy?"

"Hm?" grunted Roy, pulling his thoughts away from how Edward was going to react once he learned the truth and looked into golden eyes.

"Thanks…for calling me today. I was really glad you called."

The somber note to Edward's voice gave him pause. It didn't sound like he was glad. Until now, Edward had been very energetic, but that was all gone now. "Did something happen?" wondered Roy, reading Edward's body language with ease.

"Yes, but I... I'll tell you after dinner. I wanna see what steak looks like when it's take out." The grin was back as if it had never left.

The doors slid apart with the usual, familiar screech of metal against metal revealing a very nice apartment hallway. Roy's apartment took up half the floor with another tenant taking the other side. His door was to the right, so with a hand on the small of Edward's back, he led the smaller man towards his place.

Once inside, Edward took it upon himself to inspect his fantastic view of the city with a loud exclamation awe. Chuckling, Roy picked up the phone and dialed out, placing two orders from memory to a fantastic bistro.

* * *

The dim yellow light cast a feeble glow, creating more shadows then banishing them. At this time of night, the hospital got quiet—eerily so. But it was the time Al liked best.

He walked softly down the empty halls, peeking into rooms as he passed. Some had families keeping a vigil over their loved ones; some rooms had patients alone, suffering by themselves. He had been criticized in the past for caring _too_ much for his patients. A doctor needed to maintain a professional, clinical attitude, but Al didn't subscribe to that way of thinking. He liked connecting with the parents of the children he treated and he felt it helped that the kids looked up to him and trusted him.

Al turned the corner and headed for Dewy's room. The poor boy; his parents hadn't been able to show up today and Al's heart went out to the lonely child. As he peered inside Dewy's room, he saw that his mother at least had finally made it in and was sitting in the hard wooden chair right next to her son. At the sound of his step, she looked up wearily and smiled at him slightly. Al nodded his head and continued down the hall.

If he could finish up his rounds soon, it might still be early enough back in New York that he could give Winry a call.

* * *

Edward lay on Roy's couch and looked at the ceiling, his hands pillowed behind his head as he sighed in contentment.

"Well?" asked Roy's voice, coming from somewhere near his hip.

"Alright, it was good," agreed Edward, sitting up and planting his hands behind him to support his body. Roy turned his head and looked up at him from his seat on the floor, smiling.

"I told you their steak was good, even if it was take-out."

"Hm-mm," Edward hummed, smiling lightly at Roy. Edward spun his body around, putting his feet where his head had been and draped his arms about Roy's neck, burying his face into the warm neck with another sigh.

Roy ran a hand over the top of his head and chuckled lightly. "Well, now that I've fed you, would you like to catch a play or—"

"Let's watch a movie here," interrupted Edward, nuzzling his head against Roy's collar bone. "And you can lay down on the couch with me."

"How domestic," teased Roy.

"Is that okay?" asked Edward, lifting his head from Roy's shoulder. Dark eyes turned to meet his with a smile and the hand on his head, slid down to his neck were it rubbed small circles into the muscle.

"Of course it's alright. I get you all to myself, after all. But… We'll have to settle for pay-per-view. I don't own any movies."

"That's all right. Shall we straighten up here before we get comfortable?" Roy's gaze suddenly turned calculating and he pulled out of Edward's arms. He shifted around until he was kneeling over Edward, looking down at him. "What?" asked Edward, blinking at Roy in confusion.

Roy's eyes roved down his sprawled body slowly causing Edward to shift self-consciously under the scrutiny, but he also felt a thrill to be looked at like this by Roy. He found himself breathing faster as Roy's gaze went lower and his penis began to stir, making the front of his slacks tight.

"Spread your legs," murmured Roy, making Edward fully hard by those words alone.

Feeling excitement course though him, Edward pulled his legs apart as far as the couch would allow.

* * *

"Do you know who I saw last night?" asked Mei Chang, and then she plowed forward, without giving anyone the chance to answer. "Roy Mustang! It was late, and like, hard to see, but I could tell it was him. And do you know who I saw with him?"

She paused long enough to draw air into her lungs and just as Fu was opening his mouth she continued. "A man! Yes, I saw a man with _our_ Roy Mustang! Can you believe it? I didn't but then, guess what! I saw Miss Winry come out, with her crutch and all. She got down the stairs and they were talking. I bet you'll never in a million years guess who the man was? Com'on, guess!"

"Was it—" Fu tried again.

"It was _Edward_! Can you believe it! I couldn't! It was like, so shocking, you know?" said Mei Chang in a happy rush. "And do you know what? I think Winry and Roy were _fighting_ over Edward! Oh. My. _Gosh_! Can you imagine that?"

"Really, Mei, there's no need to jump to conclu—" Hohenheim said, turning away from the growing pile of dried dishes, feeling a worried squirm twist around his empty stomach at the woman's words.

"Do you think that Roy might be gay? I mean, has anyone ever, like, _seen_ him with a woman?" Mei Chang asked.

"Roy Mustang is not the gay," Fu said quickly and angrily, finally getting his opinion in.

"It's not 'the gay', dear," Patricia said. "It's just 'gay'. And really, he can be gay if he wants to." Hohenheim looked over at the sound of her voice to see a very pointed look directed at him that spoke volumes.

"Yeah," said Mei Chang in a loud voice. "What's wrong if Roy's gay? I think it's cool!"

Hohenheim felt himself panic. Edward's coming out just as Roy suddenly starts spending time with his son? What if they were right and Roy Mustang was gay. Could he be after Edwar—

"Roy Mustang is a great man, he can no be the gay," Fu said, his eyebrows furrowing deeply. Hohenheim looked over at the older man. "Great men all like women."

"That's absurd, Fu," said Patricia crossly. She threw her dish rag back into the tepid water with a small splash and turned to face the table where Mei Chang and Fu were still seated after everyone else had left. "I don't want to hear another word about Roy's supposed sexuality. It's none of our business anyway, and it's not like it's going to hurt you if he was."

"Yeah but…if he _is_ gay, he was with Edward…you don't think, like, Roy might _like_ Edward, do you?" ventured Mei Chang. Everyone exchanged looks between them, Hohenheim feeling especially on the spot when all eyes ended up on him.

"What?" asked Hohenheim, a hint of annoyance creeping through his voice. He didn't want to deal with this right now. It was too close on the heels of Edward's revelation to be comfortable. He had only made marginal headway in coming to terms with his son's sexuality, but to add Roy's speculated interest on top of that…

"Oh! Get out of my kitchen," Patricia huffed, moving away from the sink to shoo Mei Chang and Fu out of her domain. The two moved at her insistence and left Patricia and Hohenheim alone for the first time since this morning.

Patricia's deep brown eyes turned to him and watched silently. She made no move to either break the silence that had descended or move toward him, which made him nervous about bring up the subject at hand.

"Where is Edward?" Patricia finally asked, her eyes turning hard.

"I don't know," he mumbled, dropping his gaze to the top of his feet. "He left."

"Left for where?" she asked. Hohenheim looked up as she moved towards him with her arms crossed under her bosom.

"I didn't ask," said Hohenheim. He turned back to his unfinished dishes and picked up a wet plate, rubbing it dry.

"You do know that you're hurting Edward with this attitude, don't you?" said Patricia. She came back to her spot at the sink and leaned her hip into the counter. Hohenheim felt himself flush in embarrassment.

"I know," he said, returning the now dry plate to the cupboard and picking up another.

Well?" Patricia asked somewhat impatiently. "How are you going to make it up to him?"

Hohenheim's hand slowed over the plate. "I don't know…" he said quietly, letting the errant strands of hair fall forward just like his son. But it wasn't enough to hide away from Patricia's gaze. "I also want to make it up to you as well, Patricia."

"Me? Why me?" she asked, clearly surprised.

Very deliberately, Hohenheim placed the half dry plate on the counter as well as the dish towel and turned to the woman beside him. He took his time to study her face, moving over familiar winkles and creases that marked her age, the fall of soft brown hair over her shoulder that had begun to lighten, her kind personality; all the things that had made him fall in love with her even without him realizing it.

"I've been a fool for so long, Patricia; my dear Patricia," he said, reaching out to hold her arms just above the elbows gently. "I've been so blind—it took you being angry with me to see." She made no move to interrupt him, but tilted her head curiously. "It seems that this is the day for revelations, because I've found that I'm quite deeply and fondly in love with you."

—To Be Continued—

This was meant to go up about a week and a half ago, but school projects made that time vanish. Sorry about that. I hope you enjoy and share your thoughts with me XD


	23. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

Beta'd by the wonderfull Yaoi_Girl69. Any errors beyond her work are purely my own :D

Enjoy!!

**Chapter 22**

It had started to rain pretty hard at some point shortly after their meal. It pounded against the large windows in a steady drum and made an early night. But even so, Roy wasn't giving the weather a whole lot of thought right now. He had a beautiful blond squirming for his touch and desperate for his attentions all over his couch.

Edward was pushed up against the back of the couch in order to make room for his longer body. Even lying on his side, there wasn't a lot of room to spare. But it was just fine as far as Roy was concerned. He had a semi-naked, wonderfully toned, younger man waiting with baited breath for the next pass of his hand along his mid-drift. It gave him a heady sense of power—and he was used to power.

With a small smirk, Roy carefully brought his hand down towards Edward's chest, his gaze shifting upwards to see how intense he could make Edward look at him. Just as Roy's finger was near his nipple he paused and his smile grew.

"You're a fucking bastard," growled Edward, making Roy grin fully. Keeping his finger tantalizingly close, Roy circled around the perky nipple, listening as Edward tried to control his breathing.

"I think that all this playing is getting on my nerves. If you're going to fuck me, you should get on with it."

Roy looked down at the frustrated blond glaring at him and quirked an eyebrow. He had to admit, at least to himself, he was stalling. That was why he hadn't taking things further then this so far. But he could see in Edward's eyes that if he didn't do something soon, the tables may well turn against him and he couldn't have that.

Placing his palm flat against Edward's hot skin, he let his hand glide downwards to his belt. He just couldn't go farther with out hearing it from Edward's own mouth. "Are you sure you want this?" asked Roy softly, playing with the belt buckle but not releasing it yet.

"Ah…" The note of hesitancy, made Roy look down on Edward's face. "Actually…I've never…"

Roy frowned. "Do you mean to say—"

"Yeah. Never…"

Opening his mouth, Roy was about to say that they didn't need to rush things, especially since tonight was the night he was going to tell Edward his idea. Edward once again interrupted and reached up with both hands, pulling his head down until their lips touched. He made a half-hearted attempt to pull away before he got swept up in the feel of the man below him and threw caution to the wind.

With his free hand, Roy reached between the couch and Edward's body, sliding his hand under the small of the blond's back and lifting him forward to press against his body. He could feel a very obvious erection press into his lower pelvis just above his own. It amused him slightly that Edward was shorter than him but he didn't get a chance to think beyond that as Edward moved one of his hands down, down, down until he pressed it between their bodies, palming Roy's length.

He moaned around the tongue in his mouth, his control slipping away to dangerous levels. If this kept up he'd do something that might hurt Edward.

"Wait," murmured Roy, pulling back slightly in order to give himself time to get some sort of control back.

"Don't you fucking dare say you're going to stop," hissed Edward, shocking Roy. He didn't think that Edward could be this intense but then, he had been teasing the younger man for some time now.

"I didn't say 'stop', I said 'wait'. I don't want to hurt you, and I don't want your first time to be on the couch of all places."

"Oh," said Edward, immediately relaxing back into the couch. Smiling down at Edward's slightly expectant, slightly nervous face, Roy pulled him to his feet.

The golden fall of Edward's hair around his shoulders begged to be played with and Roy didn't resist the call. His fingers combed through at the temple and reached to the back, lifting the heavy hair. Those damned auric, constantly shifting eyes watched him with a passionate, eager examination and those kiss swollen lips were too sweet to pass up.

He pulled Edward towards him, hearing the rain beat against the window as their lips touched. Even as the kiss deepened and they started walking blindly towards Roy's bedroom, he knew that he couldn't go through with this. He had to stop it or else he'd hate himself. But…there were billions of dollars to be lost…

No. He couldn't let his personal feelings enter into this. He mustn't let his feelings affect him. He was a cold, calculating business man, out to close a merger that would net Mustang Inc. a gain of over 3.6 billion dollars, and that's not even counting how the new product line would grow under his guidance.

Edward was in the way, and he'd take care of it just like every other time he took care of things for the family. This was no different.

They fell onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, Edward quickly rolling them over so that he was perched on Roy's pelvis. Immediately Edward was leaning forward to attack his lips and his mouth with a renewed vigor. Roy let his hands slide up the narrow waist, gripping Edward's strong shoulders in both his hands, pulling the body over him close until they were pressed together.

Breathing heavily, Edward pulled back and licked along his chin and down to his ear lobe, sucking it in. Roy moaned as teeth held his ear and a firm tongue swept along and under his lobe. Racking his nails down Edward's lovely back, Roy slid his hands over a tight, clothed ass and kneaded. In response, Edward moaned and dragged his tongue up and then thrust his tongue into his ear cannel.

"Hell," hissed Roy, gripping that firm ass that had haunted him all day and rolling them over. Edward's arms flopped out along the bed spread, his hair falling into his face. Roy reached down and began to unlatch Edward's belt.

Watching him intently, Edward moved his hair off his face and then began to release the buttons on Roy's shirt. Their eyes met as Roy pulled the belt free and threw it behind him to land on the floor.

He ran his nail just under the waistband of Edward's pants in a tantalizingly light touch causing Edward to squirm and forget about the half open shirt in his hands.

"Roy…" murmured Edward, a slight pleading edge to his voice. Moving down Edward's body and between his legs, Roy placed a light, teasing kiss just above Edward's bellybutton. His hands lighted on the button to Edward's pants and pulled them part. His lips then moved below the bellybutton, placing another kiss into the firm stomach and watching it twitch.

He found the zipper pull and drew it downwards, placing another kiss to the top of Edward's boxer waistband. Roy then kissed the top of the firm bulge making Ed hitch an already shaky breath. Drawing the pant closure open as wide as it would go, Roy placed another kiss just below the head of Edward's erection.

One of Edward's hands gripped the back of his skill. "Ugh, Roy…"

Roy lifted his head to find Edward watching him with a look that made his heart freeze and his guts twist. Paralyzed with guilt and fear, all Roy could do is stare into Edward's love fill gaze and hate himself. When he didn't move, Edward did it for him. He sat up on the bed and lightly took hold of either side of his head and drew it up to his face for a tender kiss that only increased Roy's agony.

"I so glad you called me today," said Edward against Roy's lips, immediately placing another kiss against them.

"Why's that?" asked Roy somewhat stiffly. He hoped Edward didn't notice.

"I…I told my father about my being gay," Edward murmured, leaning forward even further to rest his head against the side of Roy's neck.

Roy barked out a laugh, thinking about his own encounter with his mother. "So did I," he said, placing a kiss against Edward's hair covered neck.

"You did?" asked Edward, surprise and shock in his voice as he pulled back to look at him in the eye. "How'd it go?" he wondered shyly. Roy shrugged noncommittally. That _look_ was still in Edward's eyes and it was unnerving him.

"My father didn't react very well…" admitted Edward looking to the side. "I'm glad you called. I really needed to see you and we didn't get to talk much on the flight back." He leaned in and placed another kiss against Roy's numb lips.

"Roy," said Edward, his voice turning serious and earnest. Roy felt dread. "I don't want a casual thing with you. I want us to be more then just 'a good time'. Can we?"

As always, Edward was throwing him another curveball. It was supposed to be him asking Edward this, but he obviously was too slow. Feeling that it was too good an opportunity to pass up, Roy forced himself to smile lightly at Edward.

"I would like that," he murmured, placing a light kiss against Edward's lips that curved upwards in a happy smile. "I also have a surprise for you."

"Oh yeah?" said Edward, his eyes shining in happiness and love. The longer this went on the more Roy couldn't stand it.

"I was going to wait till later, but I think now would be acceptable," said Roy, pushing up from the mattress and walking over to his dresser on the wall directly opposite from the bed. He ignored the throb of his arousal. On top of the dresser, there was an envelope that Alex had given him four hours before Edward had shown up at his office.

"What's that?" wondered Edward, propping himself up on his palms.

Looking back at the man on his bed, Roy opened the envelope and pulled two airplane tickets forth.

"What's that?" asked Edward again, shifting forward in his curiosity. Roy raked his eyes down the naked chest and down to the seemingly forgotten erection between Edward's legs.

"This," he said, looking back up into deep burnished golden eyes. "Is tickets for two on a plane to Paris." As Edward's eyes widened, Roy crossed the room and sat in front of the other man on the bed. "I would really like for you to come with me," said Roy, forcing the words out.

"Are you fucking serious?" whispered Edward, taking the tickets from Roy's hand and carefully opening each one. Roy watched him mutely as Edward placed the tickets on the down comforter and ran a finger over each of their names.

Edward looked over at him with a pleased and contented smile. "Thank you, oh Roy, this is—at first I was like 'Winry, Winry' and I didn't really notice you."

"Thanks," Roy said somewhat sarcastically, wondering where this was going.

"Er—no, what I mean is that, I was always so afraid of you. You never gave me a moments rest, but now—but _now_." Suddenly Edward lunged forward and threw both arms around his neck and began laughing joyously. Roy brought his arms to rest around Edward's waist mechanically more out of instinct then any desire on his part to pull Edward closer.

"And then when you practically forced me to come with you on the plane I almost couldn't stand it, but then you were so nice and I couldn't help it. I love you, I love you, Roy," Edward whispered against his cheek, ardently.

Roy received kisses along his jaw down to his mouth and then up the other side and all he could think about was how cruel it was going to be to just _leave_ Edward there all by himself. He just—_couldn't_ do it. This man was such a free, gentle soul; he couldn't be the one to bring him down. But even so, what he was going to do now would hurt just as much.

Lifting his hands from Edward's waist, Roy pushed on strong shoulders to make Edward sit back.

"Kiss me, Roy," pleaded Edward, moving towards his lips, but Roy pushed more strongly.

"No. Wait—I can't…"

"What? You've _been_ kissing me all night so far. Did you forget how?" said Edward, laughing lightly. He again leaned in and Roy pushed him back on his heels and stood from the bed, towering over the blond who was now level with his crotch.

If it was any other man…

"I'm sorry," said Roy, shaking his head once and closing his eyes against the look he was getting.

"You're sorry?" questioned Edward, confusion lacing his voice. Roy frowned in pain. "Is something wrong?"

"Edward…" Roy ran his hand through his bangs, lifting them from his forehead with a sigh. His desire hadn't abated despite the fact that he dreaded what he was about to say.

"Is it work?" wondered Edward standing from the bed and hovering near his elbow; placing a warm hand on his forearm. "Is there something I can do?"

"Kiss me," whispered Roy, opening his eyes and looking down into Edward's face.

Just one…last…taste…

With a relived smile, Edward leaned forward and up, pressing his lips against Roy's in a sweet, emotion filled kiss that shook Roy down to his toes. Roy pulled away—much too soon for his liking, but he needed to put a stop to this. "No," murmured Roy, shaking his head sharply. "No, I can't."

Edward looked at him with a wary look in his eye. "You…can't…?" he murmured.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen," said Roy, turning his back on Edward; physically cutting himself off from the younger man.

There was silence in the room for several tense moments, and Roy couldn't even hear Edward's breathing. "Edward, I'm sorry," he said into the silence. Still getting no response he ploughed on. "I needed to keep you away from Winry. But don't worry, I had Alex buy you a flat and there's a bank account in your name with seven hundred thousand euros…. There's a merger…" The words died in his mouth.

"Do you love me? At _all_?" asked Edward in a horse croak. Roy turned slightly then. Edward's shoulders were hunched forward with his arms wrapped around his stomach, betrayal burning brightly in his eyes, and Roy knew he would be haunted by that pain for the rest of his life.

"I…" stammered Roy, turning around to look at the man fully. His penance…

Moisture pooled in those lovely eyes but didn't fall. "I thought that—" said Edward brokenly.

"It's just business," said Roy, finding his voice level and cool. Just like always. Funny how easy it was to pull that armour back without even trying. He hadn't even known it was gone until it came back. Edward's eyes turned hard. Strange really, they looked more fearsome with the threat of tears.

"Just business," Edward growled, dropping his hands to his sides. "Just fucking business, eh? Like every other business deal; Roy Mustang always gets his way and no one can oppose him, is that it?" he asked, his voice gaining in volume and intensity.

"That is correct," said Roy calmly. He folded his arms across his clothed chest and looked down his nose at the disheveled state Edward was in. His blond hair was a wild and unruly mess, his face was flushed with more then anger and he was half-naked. Roy had the upper ground—the place of superiority—he was still clothed and he was in control of his emotions.

"You…fucking—" Edward swallowed hard. Roy could see the adam's apple bob. "_Bastard!_'"

Without even thinking, Roy leaned back as a wickedly fast right cross zoomed past his face. Eyes going wide, Roy scrambled backwards, tripping over his feet in his haste to get away.

"What are you _doing_?" gasped Roy, slamming a shoulder into the wall. Edward had remained rooted to his spot, but those fierce eyes had followed his ungraceful escape with contempt.

There was no answer to his question. Edward regarded him with pain and hurt, and anger as well. His pride had been wounded by Roy's actions and it looked like Roy was going to be made to pay. Of all the possible outcomes this scenario could have inspired, Roy would never have imagined that Edward would become physically violent.

Very slowly, Edward began to move towards him. He _wanted_ to slide along the wall and edge around this man—demon—towards the door, but he forced himself to stand his ground. He wasn't going to run away. Roy stood to his full height and watched Edward come. Clenching his teeth hard as the smaller man stopped in front of him and glared.

There was an instant before it happened; a tightening of the eyes and a pressing of the already thin lips that Roy knew the punch was soon coming. His own eyes narrowed slightly in preparation of the hit.

Edward drew back with his fist, his hair swirling around him. Roy did close his eyes then.

He heard the crunch echo through his head making him clench his teeth hard. Roy expected the pain to be instantaneous, but he felt nothing. Braving one eye to open, Roy saw Edward's forearm disappear past of the corner of his eye. Opening the other eye, he saw that Edward had punched a hole in the plaster right next to his ear.

"I don't want anything from you," growled Edward. Roy tore his eyes away from the arm sunk into the wall and looked down at Edward. "I thought we had more—we _could_ have had more. Probably would have been good too. I guess what they say about you is true."

"What do they say about me?" asked Roy faintly.

"That you would sell off your mother if you could make a profit."

Roy closed his eyes in agreement, opening slowly as he heard the arm being withdrawn from the wall.

Edward walked over to the bed and looked around the room then down at the tickets. "Actually, I will take this," said Edward, holding up one of the plane tickets.

"Of course," said Roy.

Giving him one last hurt filled look, Edward briskly walked out of the bedroom. It was a few moments more before he heard the front door open and then slam shut.

Letting out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding, Roy pushed his shoulder against the wall and turned to examine the damage. Edward had punched right through the plaster into the insulation. There was blood…

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Roy took his time walking into the kitchen. Strange…his legs were shaky and as he poured a generous dollop of whisky into his lead crystal glass, his hand shook.

The contents of the glass were thrown back, and almost immediately he could feel the warmth work through his limbs.

At least he didn't have to go to Paris now. Edward was going to leave tomorrow afternoon, and the merger would be safe. Winry would marry Al and that would keep Hughes off his back and he could just go on making money for the family like always.

--To Be Continued--

Once again, things like RL and pre-next semester readings have conspired against me to delay this update. I hope you enjoy the chapter and are having a wonderful holiday.

Please review :D!


	24. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

Spellchecked, proof read, Un-beta'd. My new beta Yaoi_girl69 seems to be too busy to help me out. So, if you see a glaring mistake, please PM me with the details and I'll fix it up. I'm also open to entertaining applications for beta work. Contact me for further details.

**Chapter 23**

He would not run. No matter how he wanted to flee, he would. Not. Run.

Edward strode across the living room, bending fluidly to snag his shirt and made an immediate beeline for the door. He bent once more, hooking his fingers into the heels of his shoes and opened the door, slamming it behind him as hard as he could. He was at the elevator in an instant, repeatedly jamming his thumb against the call button. He half feared that Roy would come out and try to talk to him, and that was the last thing he wanted. If that happened…he would punch him out for real. Shifting his bundle from one arm to the other, Edward threw an angry glare at the door at his back and swallowed hard.

He felt worse than dirt.

Turning his eyes back to the non-responsive elevator doors, he clenched his teeth hard and pulled at his drooping pants. Finally the doors slid open with a screech of metal. Hurrying inside, Edward pressed the lobby button and dropped his stuff to the floor. He jerkily pressed the button of his pants through the hole on the opposite side, angrily doing up the zipper all the while his gaze was on Roy's door.

Finally the elevator slid shut, cutting off the sight of the hallway. With a small bounce, the elevator started its decent. Growling in his throat, Edward reached down and pulled his shirt free, thrusting each arm down the sleeves savagely. He toed the shoes into the right position and crammed his bare feet into each opening. It was then he noticed that he'd forgotten his socks and his belt.

The only thing left on the floor was the airplane ticket.

The chime sounded at each floor he passed, but he could hardly process any of that. His whole being was mourning the loss of something that he hadn't even had in the first place.

"Damn him," hissed Edward, frowning at the ticket and half wishing that Roy was here so he could rag him out. "Damn him!" He slammed the edge of his fist against the wall, making the wood paneling rattle.

With a final ping, the elevator doors opened onto the lobby. Bending, Edward took the ticket into his fist and stalked across the lobby. The doorman looked up at the sound of his footfalls, his eyes going wide. Edward didn't care. He knew he looked a mess. His shirt was open and fluttering around behind him, his hair was a tangled jumble, and his pants were riding low on his hips without his belt to keep them on his waist.

Slamming his palm against the glass of the door, Edward rushed out into the night and into the pouring rain. Immediately his hair became plastered against his head and his shirt soaked through. Tilting his head back and closing his eyes, he welcomed the rain's cool and soothing balm to his anger.

The street was deserted. Sensible walkers had long since found another, dryer way home. There was no one to see how the ache of grief tore at him. The only sound he could discern was that of the rain hitting the pavement. The constant, steady drum of water on his face, the street, the cars, the pavement, drew him into its rhythmic sounds. He let the feel of the fat drops of rain on his closed eyes, cheeks and chest wash away the sense memory of Roy's hands as they had caressed his body and push out the thoughts that wanted to crowd his mind uselessly.

Then the rain wasn't falling on him anymore.

Opening his eyes, Edward looked up into the underside of an umbrella. Twisting around, he looked up into the concerned eyes of the doorman in surprise.

"Sir, please forgive my forwardness, but you are getting wet," the soft spoken man said.

With a soft snort, Edward dropped his gaze down to his feet. His pants were not quite soaked through yet but his upper half was drenched. A muddling of thoughts and possible reactions flittered through his mind and each one was discarded until he just remained mute. He couldn't bring himself to mutter any sort of response and his anger was fading away no matter how hard he would have liked to hang onto it.

"May I call you a taxi, sir?" the older man asked.

Without thinking, Edward patted his back pocket to judge his financial situation and realized that his wallet was sitting upstairs on Roy's coffee table. He'd taken it out when they had sat down to eat and forgot to pick it up in his haste to get away. The only thing of value he had on him right now was a slightly soggy plane ticket.

"Heh," snorted Edward. His shoulders sagged as he realized that he'd have to go back upstairs. "I forgot my wallet." There was no way he was going to be able to that.

"Oh my," the doorman said sympathetically, and then gasped in shock, pointing at his side. "Sir! Your hand."

Turning his hand over, Edward saw that most of the skin on his knuckles had been peeled off and was oozing little dribbles of blood that splashed down onto the pavement and quickly mixed with the rain until it disappeared. "Oh," said Edward, shrugging it off as inconsequential.

"May I suggest you come into the foyer here and let me treat that before you head out; maybe you can remember where you left your wallet."

Edward looked up at the face of the doorman and for the first time since they had started talking, he actually took in the features of the concerned man. Olive smooth skin and very light blond hair pulled back into a neat ponytail at the crown of his head were almost ignored as he stared up into startling red-brown irises. The man seemed to be genuinely concerned with his condition, and Edward found that he couldn't be rude in the face of that troubled gaze when it was so focused on him.

With a small nod, Edward allowed the man to draw him back into the building.

* * *

Winry flopped down onto her bed and stared at the ceiling with a sigh. It was late. She wanted to talk to Edward but he seemed to have disappeared. She racked her brain for clues as to where Edward might have gone. Every remembrance from her childhood and subsequent interactions with Edward as they got older were reviewed, but the memories were dim and vague. Her recollections of Edward as a boy were of her bossing him around and him scampering off to complete her tasks as quickly as he could. When searching her memories didn't avail her as to what her next course of action should be, she went looking for Hohenheim. But he didn't seem to know where he was either.

It was irksome.

There was this nagging suspicion in the back of her mind that Roy was up to no good and it wouldn't leave her alone. She had never given much thought or attention to her brother's life outside of the office. Why should she? Even as a young boy he had seemed older then his years. He had done everything he could to be a perfect boy and when he was old enough, the perfect CEO; a perfectly boring man as far as she was concerned.

Her brow knit as she considered what Roy might be up to. For some reason, she was reminded of all the times Roy had stepped in and helped her get rid of her unwanted or used up suitors. But that made no sense. Why would Roy have to spend time with Edward to get rid of him? Usually he would just give them some sort of monetary settlement in return for leaving her alone. He would never _spend_ time with her flings—not that Edward was a fling yet, but she wanted to make him one.

In fact, if she really thought about it, since Edward had come back Roy had been acting very strangely. It wasn't overt, but he was definitely not his usual calm, collected, in control Roy Mustang that he was normally. It was almost as if Roy was off-kilter somehow.

Winry shook her head and smiled. Now that _really_ didn't make any sense. Roy being 'off' was like men not wanting to be around her. She laughed into the empty room.

But then… Her laughter died as a thought occurred to her. Edward didn't seem to want to be around her either… With that thought, Winry started thinking over all her past interactions with Edward again. There was something…bothering her…but, she couldn't quite put her finger on it…

* * *

"There you are," the doorman, who was named Miles, said giving him a slight smile. He pressed the last piece of tape gently against the gauze and then turned away to begin putting the first-aid kit back together.

Edward glanced down at his hand. There were so many bandages and tape covering his knuckles and most of this hand that he couldn't even close his fingers into a fist anymore. "Thanks," mumbled Edward, rubbing his covered knuckles into the palm of his other hand earning him a dull stab of pain. His clothes were soggy and dripping all over the floor, but before Miles had started to bandage his hand, he had fixed his appearance as best he could by doing up his shirt and pushing the bulk of his wet hair back.

"Now—have you given thought as to where your wallet might be?" Miles asked. With a large sigh, Edward pointed at the ceiling. "Upstairs?" Miles asked, raising one eyebrow in question. Edward nodded sullenly and looked away.

"I see. It seems that you are reluctant to go get it," Miles observed. Edward nodded again. "You came in with Mister Mustang, didn't you?"

Frowning, Edward glared at Miles from his seat behind the desk. He didn't like where this was headed. "I should go," declared Edward, sliding off the chair about to push past the doorman.

"Hold on, sir," said Miles placing a firm but somehow light hold on his arm. "I could go get your wallet for you."

"Why?"

"Why? Why what? Would I do that for you?" asked Miles, lifting his eyebrows at him. "Well, that is my job, plus you seem very upset at the moment. I want to help."

Edward snorted and looked away. He did need his wallet. He was leaving tomorrow after all. It wasn't like he'd be able to get it later. God…was he really going to do this? Just _leave_? He covered his face with his uninjured hand and sighed. And what would Roy do when this man knocked on his door and asked for his wallet? As angry as he was at the man, he still wanted Roy to like him—maybe even love him just a little.

"Sir?" Miles asked, bending forward to trying to see through Edward's hand. The movement caused Edward to glance at him though his hair.

"Okay, go and get it for me… Please," he added as an after thought. With a sigh, he let his hand drop and moved back to the stool. Miles grinned at him and headed over to the elevator. Just as Edward sat down, and before Miles could press the button, the elevator pinged.

Though he had no reason to think it, Edward's heart leapt up into his throat, thinking it could be Roy coming to find him. But that was absurd. There would be no reason for Roy to do that and…

His eyes went wide as Miles took a step back to allow the elevator rider to disembark and there stood Roy, looking from Miles to him.

He felt sick. He wanted to run away. He wanted to stand his ground. He wanted to yell at Roy. He wanted to whisper to Roy. He wanted to punch him. He wanted Roy to hold him. He wanted Roy to have sex with him. He hated Roy. He loved Roy.

Pressing his lips over his clenched teeth, Edward dropped his head down, shaking his wet hair forward to in a futile attempt to hide.

"Ah, Mister Mustang, I was just about to come up. It seems this gentleman has forgotten his wallet."

Edward hunched his shoulders. He knew—he could feel it—Roy was looking at him with those lovely dark eyes of his. He wanted to vanish.

"Yes," said Roy.

Shit, cursed Edward mentally as an immediate craving for Roy's touch jolted through him. That voice was just too much. It was almost like he was conditioned to react to that voice now and he couldn't stop himself from loving the sound of it and giving a little shiver.

"I just noticed it myself. Perhaps…you could give us a minute? I'm sure you could do with a break, Miles."

Edward felt frozen to the stool. He wanted—needed—to get out of here, but he couldn't seem to find the will to actually do it. He couldn't even find it in himself to ask Miles to stay as he heard the other man walk over to the front door. Just before leaving however, Miles leaned over the countertop and poked Edward in the shoulder.

"Hey man, I'm just going to be outside. I'll keep my eyes on things here, so if you need help…" whispered Miles, but not low enough that Roy wouldn't be able to hear it. It was as much to reassure Edward as it was to warn Roy. It made him wonder just what Miles thought was going on here.

Edward managed only a jerky nod, not taking his eyes away from the floor. His heart beat an unsteady rhythm and he couldn't stay still. He shifted on the stool, played with the nail on his thumb—and fuck he wanted to be anywhere but here. It felt as if all the time he'd spent in Paris growing up meant nothing. He was that shy kid again, unable to confront the harder aspects of life and only wanting to hide from them. He knew that he was stronger then this, he should be stronger then this.

The outside door opened letting in the hiss of rain for a moment and then it was silent again. He wondered what Roy was going to do, or say to him. Did he even want to hear it? Maybe he should just tell Roy to put his wallet on the counter and leave him alone.

He could hear Roy approach him, but he kept his head lowered. "How's your hand?" asked Roy very softly.

Edward frowned. "You don't get to be worried about me," he growled. He finally raised his head to glare his hatred at the man standing at the corner of the desk.

A remorseful look passed through Roy's face before it disappeared beneath a mask. "Of course. You are right, I'm sorry," said Roy, inclining his head towards Edward.

"Bull _shit_!" spat Edward, fisting his uninjured hand until his knuckles creaked. "All of it was bull shit, wasn't it?" But Edward didn't really want to know, so he continued. "How do you know that I wouldn't have been right for Winry? We might have been really good together. You don't know that," accused Edward, pointing his finger at the other man's chest.

"I didn't need to know," Roy told him calmly.

Edward pressed his lips, seething. Roy thought he knew Winry so well, but he didn't, and it angered him that he would presume to act on her behalf without considering her feelings or desires. Roy just went ahead and did whatever the hell he wanted without thought. It didn't matter that Edward had come to feel something for Roy in the interim; the fact was that Roy had overstepped his bounds and did something unconscionable both to his sister and to him. And above all, he couldn't believe that Roy had done all of this to him and had not felt anything at all. There was such a strong chemistry between them that Roy couldn't be as unaffected as he was pretending.

"You care for me," Edward challenged, changing the subject and watching Roy very carefully. It had to be true. He knew that Roy acted differently around him these last few days. He had to care!

"As the son of my driver, of course—"

"As something _more_! You said it yourself and that's why you'd always freak out and follow me. You care." His voice faded to a whisper and he leaned forward on the stool, placing his hand on the desk, trying to see if there was anything at all for him here.

Roy met his gaze without comment or reaction. Edward searched one side of Roy's face and then the other and back, and he could find no spark, no lie; nothing for him to bother with here. There was no look of fondness or even a tiny flicker of love. With a snort and a disgusted shake of his head, Edward gave up. He'd been played and he could tell by the look on Roy's face that it wasn't anything but that.

He swiped his wallet off the counter and moved past Roy, feeling a spike of adrenaline as he did so. Fucking man was still inspiring a reaction out of his body despite what his head knew. This was so messed up, Edward thought as he pushed on the door. Miles stared mutely at him from the cover of the stone overhang. Being already soaked through, the cool night air sent immediate shivers down his spine.

"How'd it go, man?" asked Miles, shooting a curious glance inside. Edward did so as well, finding Roy watching them, standing in the same spot he'd left him at. Edward's heart immediately clenched painfully at the sight that Roy made; being all handsome and stoic. With a frown, he turned away from the sight and looked out across the street.

"Fine; I got my wallet, after all."

"Too right, man. Hey, you take it easy, you hear?" Miles held out his fist at him. With a smile, Edward touched his uninjured fist to Miles'.

"Now you get all informal?" asked Edward with a small smile for the older man that didn't feel as forced as it could have been, considering. "What about before?"

"I was working before. I'm on break now," said Miles, smirking at him. That caused Edward to snort in disbelief.

"Okay, whatever." Without meaning to, Edward glanced inside again. Roy was still standing there, watching. "I better go. I'll find a taxi or something, but I'm not going to hang around here any longer. Thanks man." Miles nodded and Edward stepped out into the deluge heading down the street.

* * *

They went back to his book-lined living room to talk. The kitchen was too well travelled for this kind over conversation. Patricia sat on his couch, near but not close. Hohenheim supposed he deserved that. She hadn't even responded yet to his declaration of love and he deserved that too. He deserved a lot of things.

Bowing his head, Hohenheim found it easier to talk to his lap than look into Patricia's eyes at the moment.

"It's just that…" he murmured. "I don't understand. It's so sudden. I didn't notice."

"Just because you didn't notice that Edward was gay doesn't mean that you've been a horrible father—"

"That's not it. I don't understand why he couldn't tell me. Why didn't he say anything to me—at all? I don't understand why he wouldn't tell me…" Silence filled the room after his comment. It gave Hohenheim time to ponder the many confused things that were zooming around in this head. Hurt and betrayal chased each other around in his heart that his son didn't think to come to him. But seeing as he was reacting so badly, he wondered how he would have handled this if Edward _had_ come to him. "Did you know?" he asked, looking sidelong at the woman seated near him.

"I didn't, but I wondered. His fixation on Winry was so complete to the exclusion of all other girls—and there were his…difficulties at school. He was so isolated from all the other kids. Do you know that one time in junior high, he came to me in tears because he couldn't talk to a girl who was shy like him? He was so upset with himself that for a week he would find me after school and just cried in my arms. I didn't hear anything more about it after that. He just…clamed up..."

"My poor Edward. How could I be so blind?" wondered Hohenheim, shaking his head at—himself, Edward, the situation. "Patricia…this may sound stupid, so forgive me." He paused, wondering if it was wise to voice this particular question.

"Go on," Patricia prompted.

"What is it…about Edward…that's…_gay_?" He whispered the last word. It was so hard to say that word now that it was associated with Edward.

"What do you mean, dear?" asked Patricia. She called him 'dear'.

Hohenheim looked up and met Patricia's steady gaze. He knew that he was treading on thin ice with that question, but he needed some frame of reference, and Patricia had obviously given this some thought for many years. His next words would have to be chosen very carefully.

"I mean…" He broke the uncomfortable eye contact and looked back down at his lap. What _did_ he mean? "I mean, is it because he wears his hair a certain way, or because he dresses a certain way? I don't understand how this could happen. Did I do something? Didn't do something? I don't understand." He was so very confused.

"Honey, you're thinking about this all wrong. You can't do anything as a parent to make someone gay or not gay." Patricia reached forward and rested a warm, dry hand on his knee. "Edward isn't any different then he was yesterday when you didn't know."

With a frustrated sigh, Hohenheim leaned forward and let his head fall into his hands and felt the press of his elbows into his thighs. "He is different. He's so different…" murmured Hohenheim. "He likes…men…" he whispered, images of Edward being with a man flashed behind his eyelids. How could anyone want a man over a woman? How could anyone kiss a man? Or touch them skin to skin? How could it be that someone would want hard angles over soft curves? Being with a man didn't serve any purpose. There would be no children, no marriage; there was no reason. Why would someone want that when they could have a family? It didn't make sense to him. Oh, he knew that the laws were changing and that gays and lesbians could chose to get married in certain states, even adopt a child if they wanted to, but…in his heart…he didn't understand it at all.

Patricia squeezed his knee briefly and then pulled back. "So then, what will you do? Toss him out and never speak to him again? Or will you try to rise above your confusion and talk to your _son_?"

"I don't know… I don't know, Patricia. I don't know what to do," said Hohenheim, frustration and aguish edging into his voice. He loved Edward even now, but…but…

"Hohenheim…"

"Patricia…do you…do you think that…Roy…is…" He let that thought dangle out there. If he allowed himself to think on this matter, Roy's timing couldn't be more fearsome to him. But what it could mean to his son… That caused an extra fearful turn in his stomach. It was just hearsay, he knew it.

"I don't know. I've also wondered about Roy for a long time. I could never get a very good read on him. But, if I remember correctly he did 'terrorize' Edward as a boy."

He glanced briefly at her, seeing a far off, thoughtful look on her face. "I'm not sure how to deal with this. How do I talk to Edward? How do I understand?" His fear that Roy was after Edward plagued him. He hoped that he was wrong and returned his focus to his lap.

"The way you've always talked to him; gently and with love. He's still your son and he needs you."

"I do love him, but I'm so confused—"

"Then you should tell me what you're confused about."

Hohenheim whipped his head up to find his son standing in the doorway, soaked through with his long hair a stingy mess about his face and shoulders, but he was looking at him steadily and without the normal fear that was—had been—a part of Edward's nature before he left for France.

In his peripheral vision, he could see Patricia look from him to Edward and back, but he couldn't take his gaze away from his son. With a slow, deep breath, Hohenheim pictured what his life would look like if he forced Edward away. Bleak and lonesome, he would never get to see his boy succeed in life, or see him graduate from university. He would never get to hold his grandchild now—now that Edward was gay. He would never be able to call him up or write letters to him anymore when he moved out on his own. He would have none of that.

But, if Edward stayed in his life… What would it be like for him? Could he even begin to express his confusion to his _son_? With Patricia it was easier because it wasn't Edward, the source of his confusion sitting beside him. And would he be able to accept whomever Edward chose as his partner? Would he be able to even stand to be in the same room as the man Edward chose? Could he…? Edward's golden eyes watched him steadily, waiting for him to decide.

Letting out a deep sigh, Hohenheim smiled slightly and motioned his son to the armchair near to him. He was going to try very hard to understand this seeming incomprehensible problem. As Edward nodded and moved to take the seat, Hohenheim happened to catch Patricia's eye. She winked at him with a huge smile on her face and he felt buoyed by having her here.

"Edward, dear, you're soaked. Don't sit down yet; go have a shower to warm up and I'll get you some towels," said Patricia as she pushed herself up off the couch giving Edward an encouraging smile. "You get into something dry and I'll make some tea and bring those shortbread cookies you both like. I'm sure we'll have a good talk."

Edward gave her a wan smile and nodded. He turned towards his room as Patricia rushed away to get the towels from the linen closet. Hohenheim was left alone in his living room while he listened to the sounds of his loved ones moving about the house. It would take time, but he hoped that one day, he'd be able to fully accept his son's choice of lifestyle. He loved his son and it might be hard, but he couldn't imagine pushing him away.

--To Be Continued—

Please review!


	25. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

Spellchecked, proof read, Un-beta'd.

I was reviewing some of my past reviews for this fic and I noticed that a lot of you have picked up or seen a movie version (new or old) of this just because of my story! Do you guys realize how COOL that is! It's like…I've inspired you or something ;D

**Chapter 24**

The warm water moved down Edward's body soothing his chilled flesh if not his frozen heart. Both hands pressed into the tiled wall under the shower head as he bowed his head forward to allow the water to wash away the last of the soap from his body.

There were so many things to do before he left tomorrow—_fuck_! Edward's brow furrowed as a stray image of Roy entered his mind. He didn't want to think about that bastard anymore. He'd wasted enough time thinking about him while he had made his way home. Shaking the wet mass of hair back off his face, Edward tilted his head up and let the stream of water pelt his closed eyelids.

Damn.

Roy stood before him in his mind's eye. Edward grimaced and tried to think of something else. Roy smirked at him. He could feel a hand caressing his cheek. He could even smell Roy in the steamy air of his bathroom.

_Leave me alone. Please…what do you want from me? I can't do this. Please, leave me alone. _

Edward pressed his fingertips against the tile. His newly skinned knuckles split open, burning as the water washed over his un-bandaged hand. Those dark eyes watched him from the other side of the window while he stood talking to Miles. Why did Roy stay and look at him like that?

Sinking down onto his knees, Edward dropped his head forward to watch the water drain away. This was a million times worse then when Winry ignored him when he was younger. This pain didn't feel like that pain. This was so sharp; cutting through to his core and coming out on the other side leaving nothing but a giant hole in his chest. He wished he never came back, he wished that he never spent time with Roy, he wished that he never knew what Roy smelled like, he wished that he never knew how good Roy could kiss…

"Shit…" hissed Edward, feeling his eyes burn. "Shit! Shit, shit, _shit_!" He smacked his palm against the tile making a loud, wet sound.

"Edward, honey?" Patricia's voice came through the door accompanied by a soft knocking.

Swallowing his emotions down hard, Edward cast a quick look at the shower curtain, picturing Patricia on the other side of that door; worried for him. Pulling himself back together, Edward turned off the shower and stood, pulling the curtain aside.

"I'm coming, Tricia," Edward said. His voice sound almost okay and maybe she didn't notice anything because of the door between them. He quickly ran the towel over his body before wrapping it around his waist. He wasn't even partially dry, but he stepped out of the bathroom into his room anyway. Patricia was standing right in front of the door giving him a worried look.

Looking into her brown eyes, he could see that she was deeply concerned about him. Wearily, he dropped his head so she couldn't read his emotions very well anymore. He knew that he wore his feelings on his face, though he liked to pretend he didn't most of the time. Moving to the side, he walked across the soft carpet towards his closet and began to pull out some loose, comfortable clothing. Who knows how long he'd be up talking about this with his father. He wanted to be comfortable at least. Without removing his towel, he pulled on some boxers. Once they were in place, Edward threw the towel behind him towards the bed. Picking up the brush from his dresser, he began to work at the knots in his hair.

"This isn't just from coming out, is it?" Patricia whispered behind him.

Edward froze mid-brush, not even daring to breathe. His hands began to shake as he heard Patricia move towards him. Gently, she worked his hands free, guiding each hand down to hang beside his thighs. She then took the brush and with great care, combed his hair into a neat fall down his back. She didn't say anything else to him. With each touch of the brush in his hair, Edward could feel the words building up behind his closed mouth. He didn't want to tell her, but he did, too.

There was a soft clatter as the brush was set aside and his hair was gathered up and a tie was worked round. Patricia next brought him his pajama top, sliding it up his arms and moving around to his front to fasten all the buttons for him.

She was treating him like a very small child. Edward looked down at the top of her head as she worked. As she finished the last button and began to step away, he reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her into his chest where he held onto her tightly. Her arms came up and held him about the shoulders.

"Edward, honey, let it out," she whispered against his neck.

"I love Roy," he blurted against her soft hair. "I love him, but he doesn't love me. He's—I'm going back to Paris. I don't belong here." Patricia began to move away from his embrace, but he held on, stopping her.

"You're leaving?" asked Patricia. Edward could hear the shock and confusion in her voice. She gripped him harder. "Because of your father? Or Roy?"

"Roy."

"What happened, love?"

Edward gave her one last squeeze and then released her. He turned away and pulled on his pajama pants, pulling out his shirt when it got caught in the waistband. "Winry likes me, and that seems to be against Roy's plans for her," he said bitterly. "I guess he thought it'd be funny if he toyed with my emotions and make me fall for him instead. He was going to take me to Paris and ditch me there.

"And that's not even the worst of it. He—we—were going to have sex tonight. I really wanted him to be my first. And then…he just…stops and gets up and tells me he's sorry. I was so pissed. I _truly_ wanted to break something—break him—but I didn't and I just punched the wall. He even tired to buy me off, but I wouldn't take anything from him…except the plane ticket."

"I did notice your hand," murmured Patricia, but Edward continued as if she hadn't spoken at all.

"He came down to the lobby where I was getting tended to by the doorman," said Edward, snickering resentfully. "You see, I had forgotten my wallet upstairs in my rush to get out of there. When I asked him if he cared for me at all—I couldn't find anything in his face that would indicate he ever did. It was all just a fucking _joke_ for him."

"I don't know… Roy is a hard one to understand at the best of times." Patricia came up and touched Edward's shoulder, prompting him to turn towards her.

"So, the first time I fall in love, this is the result," said Edward cynically. "Am I that hard to love? Winry didn't care for me until I came back, and now Roy thinks he can play with me just for fun? What's the point in trying to meet someone if it'll only turn out like this?"

"It's not always this bad, dear. It can be good…"

Edward grunted noncommittally. He was sure that Patricia believed that, but he couldn't bring himself to hope that far ahead. Right now, he was so hurt and betrayed by Roy's actions that he couldn't ever imagine himself falling for anyone ever again. In fact, he was ready to live a celibate life from here on out.

"We should go talk to da. I'm sure he's wondering where we're at," murmured Edward. "And I don't want him knowing about this."

"Are you sure, dear? I'm sure it won't bother him to know this. It's something that you're worried about; he'd want to be there for you."

"No, he's already freaking over the fact that I'm gay, I don't want to add to that." He did not need to hear his father's comments on this little 'problem' he was having. His father even warned him to be careful of Roy before leaving with him to L.A., he couldn't prove him right, especially after just coming out.

"Okay, honey. Do you need a minute?" Edward nodded and Patricia left him alone in his room.

With a sigh, Edward flopped backwards on his bed, pressing his palms against his eyes. He was leaving tomorrow… It would be nice to be back in Paris. He'd get to see Russell and Fletcher again. They could go hang out just like always and he could tell them all about the tournament…just a few edits here and there to omit the fact that Roy had been his personal shadow and they wouldn't even know the difference…easy as that.

"So fucked up…" Edward sighed again and pushed off the bed. It was time to deal with his da.

* * *

"So..." prompted Edward. He was seated in the armchair next to the couch watching his da stare at his tea cup. For the last twenty minutes, his da hadn't done anything more than reach for a shortbread cookie and place it on his saucer. He hadn't even taken a sip of his tea. It was getting late and he had to pack at least an overnight bag if not all his clothes. He could always send for his belongings later, but it'd be nice to have some of his stuff with him.

His murmured comment went unanswered and he shot a quick, annoyed glace at Patricia. This was getting a bit ridiculous. He shifted his focus to the dark living room window. The light from the front porch showed that the rain had finally stopped. Since sitting down in the armchair, all Edward wanted to do was go outside and try and clear his head. But he had to stay here and wait for his da to find the words that would get them talking. Edward gave a small shake of his head, knowing that it wasn't likely to happen now. His da had gone quiet, introspective. It might take hours before he could be persuaded to talk.

Unwillingly, the memory of his stay in Roy's apartment sprang to mind. Roy's mouth had been so hot on his chest, and those hands had found all the spots on his body that made him feel good and wanted. But then Roy telling him it was only a business _transaction_ stabbed sliced through him again. Letting out the breath he'd unconsciously held, he pushed to his feet.

"Look, I'm not going anywhere—tonight—but I want to get some air. It'll give you time to decide what you want to ask me, okay?" Edward looked down at his father to see him looking at him with his mouth open and a hand up as if to stop him. "I'll be back," he said again, and his father nodded.

Edward retreated to his room and pulled on a light jacket and then went outside. Standing beside the door and inhaling deeply, he surveyed the newly freshened night-lawn. The smells were rich with flowers and wet earth, no sounds reached the house from the road, and the insects were singing loudly.

With a sigh born from wretchedness, Edward made his way down the stairs. He walked across the pebbled driveway and wandered over towards the main house. Before he knew it, he was half way around the perimeter and coming towards the games room. The French doors were open to the night air and a few of the lamps were on, creating a warm, relaxing atmosphere inside. Edward looked in curiously and saw Winry, dressed casually and playing a round of snooker.

At the sound of his foot scraping the walkway, Winry looked over. "Hey," she said, smiling at him.

"Hi," Edward murmured, a wan smile tugging at his lips.

"Out for a late walk?"

"Yeah. How's the ankle?" asked Edward, moving into the room just enough that he could lean on the door jam.

"Oh, it's fine—or it will be soon enough," she said. Winry reached behind her and lifted a delicate glass of wine to her lips. Edward forced himself to watch her as he had done in the past; the way she held the edge of the glass against her lips, how her throat moved, and the fall of her hair, even to how he could just smell her expensive perfume from here… It no longer affected him at all. The spell was broken.

Just like Roy wanted.

"I tried to get a hold of you today. You were MIA," said Winry with a slight whine. She set the glass on the edge of the pool table and limped around the table. Leaning forward, she lined up her cue and took a shot and then glanced at him.

"Ah—yeah. I was in town for a while," answered Edward evasively. Winry gave him a sharp, intelligent look that reminded him painfully of Roy and he tried to keep his face from showing too much, but he wasn't sure how successful he was.

"Do you always walk around at night in your pajamas?" wondered Winry, smirking at him mischievously.

Edward closed his eyes and smiled. When he looked up again he shrugged. Winry tilted her head at him, regarding him thoughtfully. "What to play a round?" she asked, motioning with the cue.

Dropping his gaze to the carpet, Edward thought that he could probably make it so Winry would continue to want to be with him, just to spite Roy. But then that would be doing the very same thing that was done to him. He wouldn't use people like that. He would never use someone. "Naw, I've…won a trip; to Paris, incidentally," said Edward, meeting Winry's curious gaze again.

"Oh? Are you going by yourself?"

"Yeah, I leave tomorrow."

"That's a pretty fast trip," said Winry thoughtfully, one of her hands pulled the glass flute over and up against her lips, taking another sip.

Edward pressed his lips together and smiled wanly at Winry, feeling a sort of peace descend on him. He couldn't begin to remember a time when he'd felt so at ease in his own skin _and_ be around Winry at the same time. All that anxiety and worry about coming home and seeing her again after so long was all but a memory now.

Tilting the glass in his direction, Winry raised one eyebrow in silent query. "No thanks, I should go," said Edward, declining her silent offer. He turned away and stepped back outside.

"Edward?"

"Hm?" Edward turned back and raised an eyebrow curiously, one hand resting on the door jam to steady himself.

"I'm sorry…for how I've treated you in the past. It was never my intention to hurt you, though, I know that I've done so anyway."

There was panic in that first moment after those words left Winry's mouth, but then it faded away. Forcing a smile on his face, Edward nodded once and then turned to leave. He hadn't expected an apology from Winry. It had definitely caught him off guard. As long as he knew Winry, he had never known her to apologize to a man she had been with, and while they hadn't been _together_ they still have a brief moment of _something_.

But it was nice to be acknowledged and to receive an apology all the same. Things felt…settled…with Winry. It was alright—he was alright—would be…soon. He was strong now. There was no reason why he couldn't go back to Paris and find happiness...alone most likely. He could do it. Now, he was going to make his way back to his house and try and get da to talk to him.

* * *

Winry watched Edward's hand clench on the molding of the door as she apologized with a growing realization. The smile that Edward gave her was even more convincing. She watched Edward leave with a frown on her face, thinking hard.

The first thing she realized was that Edward didn't like her anymore or to be more accurate, he didn't _love_ her anymore. But she had some inkling of that already. What she had just seen proved that to her without a shadow of doubt. Although she had pretty much figured it out already, it was still shocking to be confronted with the truth.

The second thing that she realized was that Edward was most likely in love with someone else. Now, this is where it got a little bit tricky for her. If she thought back to how Edward had looked upon arriving at the house with Roy, fresh from the airport and their little trip together, she would have to say that there was something there that she had missed that first time. And now that she had time to think on it, it was pretty obvious what was going on. This was really shocking and…and…bizarre! It meant that her brother; her seemingly asexual brother was interested in someone—Edward of all people!

And the crème de la crème was that Edward felt the same way.

Thoughtfully, Winry sipped from her wine glass and tried to think of what Roy could have been trying to achieve. Something hadn't gone to plan; she could read that much in Edward's demeanor and see it in his body language. She was just as adept at reading a person's body language as Roy was…maybe a little better.

What did she know? she wondered, setting the glass down softly on the felt of the table. She knew that Roy had always had some interest in Edward from the very first time he came to live above the garage. She had previously thought it only a passing interest but now she was forced to see her brother's behavior as something more.

She also knew that Roy had asked for, and gotten, a much stronger dose of drugs after causing her to break her ankle. She had viewed it as over-protective, but now Winry wondered if it was in order to get rid of her for the short-term. And knowing her brother like she did, it had to be the latter. That then, begged the question, why did Roy want to get rid of her for the short-term?

This then meant that Roy _took_ Edward away and whatever had happened on this trip, Edward felt very strongly for Roy. But, she wondered, did Roy feel anything for Edward? This also called into question her actions since Edward had come home little over a week ago. She had gotten so wrapped up in seeing a new, cuter version of Edward that she had basically forgotten all about her husband-to-be, Al.

Winry sighed and lined up her cue with the white ball taking aim at the far red ball. She knew why Roy had started what he had started and what it would mean for the company if the merger with Hughes Tech. fell through. Roy was only looking out for the company's wellbeing. It was only natural that he would take whatever measures he could to ensure that the merger went through. She knew that. But it still didn't mean that whatever he did to Edward made it alright. She really did like Al and wanted to get married to him, it was just that she got caught up in Edward's new look and his shy and charming ways.

She pushed the cue through her fingers and watched the white ball roll along the felted top towards the intended target until it slowed too soon and just bumped the red ball. With a snort of annoyance, Winry lay the cue down on the table and took her wine in hand.

"Right, well, I'm going to fix this," declared Winry, downing the last of the wine. She frowned out into the night as she placed the wine glass on the table. "First, I'm going to call Al." She nodded her head—more to herself then for any other reason—and limped as quickly as she could out of the games room.

* * *

Roy didn't know how long he stood at his floor-to-ceiling windows that night, watching the rain fall, a cut crystal glass of brandy lying forgotten in his hand, untouched. His apartment was dark and quiet; too much of either condition to be tolerated right now. After having Edward here and seeing how much life there was with him at his place, it made his apartment that much more empty when he was gone, he didn't _like_ it. Edward brought in a joyful light to his lonely place. Roy didn't like a lot of things about himself or his place right now. He felt disgusted with himself and his actions, his lack of morals that had led him to this place.

Edward was right. He did use people. Shamelessly, too. He _was_ a bastard, the biggest one ever, and the _look_ in Edward's eyes as he stood there just on the verge of crying because he was a _bastard_. He didn't deserve someone as great as Edward loving him, because he'd just ruin it and twist it all around until it was all used up and dead. This was how it should be. Edward would be happier with another man, he knew that.

Eventually, the rain stopped and all he could see were city lights as far as he cared to look…if he cared to look. His gaze was looking far across the city, but he didn't truly see any of what was before him. He was looking inward; at himself, at his life, his choices, and how deeply hurt Edward looked, glancing back at him from outside the main entrance of his building just before running off into the downpour.

How long ago was that? Only a few hours maybe? Felt like a lifetime ago. He wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight, he knew that much. And if he was going to be staying up, he might as well head over to his office and finish up his paperwork for tomorrow.

* * *

"Hi, long time no talk," Winry said into the phone. She smiled at the deep, musical laugh that tickled her eardrum. It sent a tingle down her spine. "Have you been busy?"

"_Yeah... Sorry I haven't been able to call you before now. I was actually going to try and call you tonight, but you beat me to it. How are things back home? Are my parents being over zealous still?"_ asked Al.

"No, not so bad since you talked to them last month. But I do have something rather serious I want to talk to you about. Do you have some time now?"

"_Yeah. What's going on? Should I be worried?"_

"Not for us; not anymore, but I want to tell you what's been going on with me here and I'd like for you to just listen and keep an open mind, because I know who I want, Al. I _do_ want you, you know?"

"_I know, hon. This sounds really serious. I'll lock the door so that no one will bother me."_

"Thanks, Al. You're the best, you know that?"

"_But of course," _said Al. There was humor in his voice, but Winry could also hear worry and anxiousness. He didn't know if he wanted to hear what she was going to say, and she didn't know how he would react to the news that she almost had an affair with someone. She hoped that Al would be understanding enough to see beyond the superficial. She hadn't done anything, but if given the chance she may have.

"Good, because it's a doozey."

* * *

Edward looked through the window in the door, seeing his da and Patricia leaning towards each other and talking softly; too low for him to hear. It was times like these that he wished that his father had hooked up with Patricia. They would have been good together and even though Patricia did most of the motherly things for him already, he would have liked to have her even closer. Waking up to find her in the house above the garage and not the main house would have been a dream come true for him. Not only for him, though, did he wish for her to be his mother. He also wanted his da to be happy and have someone to love other then him.

But, no matter how he would have liked it, you can't force someone to like another. He understood that personally now. Not only could he not make Winry see him and like him for who he was, he couldn't change her either. She would be who she was and the only one that could change that was her. And Roy, though he had played with his emotions, didn't care for him one bit, and nothing Edward did would change that fact. And he had wanted Patricia to hook up with his da, but it never happened. All these people that wanted to connect but didn't. It was with an almost cynical attitude in that he now questioned the point of finding someone 'special' to love, or to be with. But, he wanted to hold out hope that maybe one day…

He opened the door, his father and Patricia both looking up at the sound of the door opening.

"Da? I'm going to Paris—tomorrow," blurted Edward, closing the door behind him with a soft click. He watched his father's eyes widen in alarm. He couldn't let this linger any longer then it had already. He felt bad for doing it this way, but…he really couldn't wait forever. "If we're going to talk, we should do it before I leave here."

"But, Edward—this is so sudden. What—? Is it because of what I said?" asked Hohenheim, pushing his hands into the cushion of the couch to rise.

"Look, as much as I'd like to sit here all night and wait for you to find whatever it is you want to ask me, I need to pack. I'm sorry if this seems rushed but—"

"Edward—son—please just…just tell me what's going on. This is so sudden," said Hohenheim, taking two steps forward before stopping.

"I can tell that my…being gay…is bothering you, so it's just as well that I take off."

"That's—I didn't mean…Patricia…" Hohenheim turned to Patricia with pleading eyes.

She looked at Edward with a small smile and nodded. "Honey, you should tell your father the rest of it."

Edward sighed, rubbing a hand through his bangs. He really didn't want to do this, but it seems that Patricia felt that it was okay to tell da about Roy. He felt like a fool for being taken in by Roy's fake kindness and his attention towards him. Was he that starved for attention that he took it wherever it was given? He was too easily manipulated by that man and he had let it happen. He couldn't stand it.

"Fine. I wasn't going to say anything about this because you obviously have trouble with the fact that I'm gay, but while in L.A. I sorta…" He paused. The look on his father's face told him that the next words out of his mouth would shatter what little regard, if any, his father might still have for him. But Patricia was giving him a look that said it was fine to tell his da what had happened and he didn't know who was right in this situation.

"I sorta…I mean, I _did_ fall for…Roy…" A quick glance at his da showed that he didn't quite understand what he was saying. Edward pressed his lips in annoyance and shifted his weight nervously. "You were right, I should have been careful around Roy, but I let my guard down. It's a moot point now because I'm leaving tomorrow, and it's not because of what you said, da."

Edward looked down and to the side, not wanting to see what sort of reaction he was going to get from this. His humiliation for being taken in by Roy's acting and how pathetic he had behaved… He had practically begged Roy to have sex with him. It was like Roy _made_ him do all those things. He made him go with him, stay in the hotel room, made him want to kiss him after falling out of the tree. He made him turned on, made him like him. It was all just an act.

He turned as his father moved, falling back into his seat, looking like he had just been punched in the gut. Sadly, Edward watched his father, knowing that it was hopeless. This…whatever _this_ was, wasn't going anywhere. There was no point in continuing this pointless exercise. Whatever his father felt for him now, he couldn't change that. Not in the few hours he had left to him. Edward felt sad about that, but resigned too.

"I'm sorry," mumbled Edward. "I'm going to bed."

No one called out to him as he left and entered his bedroom, but that was fine. He wanted to be alone right now. He was hurting from so many sides. His father, Roy's manipulation, Winry's apology, being forced to go back to Paris in humiliation; they all added their own notes of sadness and anger to his already foul mood and dejected spirit.

"Fuck packing; I'm going to bed," mumbled Edward to his empty room, making him feel even crappier. Closing his door, he padded across the carpet and flopped face first onto the bed with a sigh.

"Fuck…"

--To Be Continued—

Sorry for the late update. I had hoped that my second beta would give me back a chapter by now, but I haven't heard from her. (yaoi_girl69, where are you!?) Anyway, I feel as though this chapter could have done with some outside input to make it better… I'll leave you to decide.

Please review.


	26. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

Spell checked, proof read, unbeta'ed

Ok, hooray for me and fast update! I got some future points of the story already written, but I need to go over and change it because it just wasn't doing it for me. Expect a bit of a delay for the next update, as I'm starting a new job and such, so life _may_ be in turmoil for a while. So, this is a little extra special treat for my lovelies.

Enjoy!

**Chapter 25**

Although it was his intention to work through the night, Roy found that he could no more focus at his office then he could at home. Hours were spent at the windows, watching—waiting?—or he paced around his large office. He noticed almost right away that Edward had left his parcel and its contents in his office. He consciously avoided going near his low credenza filing cabinet behind his desk so he wouldn't have to look at Edward. He might have even pretended to work, going out and looking for some file or that report, searching aimlessly through the file cabinets without success.

At times he thought that this attitude was strange and misguided. Where did these bewildered feelings come from? How come he was so restless now? Sure, what he had done was pretty horrible in the intellectual sense, but he'd done far worse to whole companies. How was it that over the course of only a few days, he had fallen to this state? Over a man? A younger man? Was he really that smitten that he couldn't stay objective and work towards his goals? And he had achieved his goals. Edward was going to Paris and leaving the county—Winry—himself behind. He was fine with that.

Wasn't he?

But Edward had only taken the ticket, not the money or the apartment. The business man in Roy congratulated himself on saving the family coffers the momentary drain paying off Edward would have caused and when he tried to envision what Edward must be feeling now he failed. He was too cold-hearted to empathize with others. He had gone too long isolating himself from a personal relationship with a lover that he didn't think he would be able to understand another well enough to have anything lasting. He was too entrenched at being a CEO to connect with someone like that.

And sometimes during the night…he berated himself for his treatment of Edward who at heart was a caring, sweet man, who only wanted to show his affection and maybe-love to Roy. He imagined Edward as an older man, embittered by Roy's callous treatment of him, living alone and loveless—hating him. But even as this image was strong, it didn't ring true. Roy's understanding of Edward's character was that he was forgiving when he was given reason to do so. No, Edward would be happy with Winry, he knew that now. In fact, to that end he was going to have the other ticket that was sitting on his desk switched into Winry's name when Alex came in for the morning.

It was wrong of him to force his sister into a marriage she didn't want to be in. If she wanted to go off to Paris to play with Edward, he was going to support that. He had meddled for too long into her life and it was time to stop. Second on his list of things to do today was to call a meeting with his mother and Maes and tell them that the merger would no longer be contingent on Winry marrying into the Hughes family. If Maes wanted to pull out after that, well then…

Roy turned towards his office door when he heard the faint ping of the elevator. Good. That meant that Alex was here and he was early. It was only just after six-thirty. It was time to get things rolling, and as he liked to tell his staff often, 'time was money'. Not bothering to wait for Alex to come into his office with his morning agenda, Roy snatched up the ticket from his desk and met the large man outside his office as he was taking off his coat, about to hang it on the coat hanger in the closet.

"Alex—" The man in question started and looked over at Roy with wide eyes. Not bothering with an explanation, he held out the ticket for Alex to take. "Change the name on this to Winry's and make sure she knows to be packed in time for the flight. I also want my mother in my office as soon as she comes in, and have Maes here too for a meeting about the merger—tell the lawyers to be there just in case."

"Yes, sir," said Alex, taking in ticket from Roy's hand. "When is a good time to meet?"

"As soon as they get here—in fact, the sooner the better and I want to see Pinako when she gets in."

"Yes, sir."

Roy had already retreated into his office and barely heard Alex's answer. Now that the day was getting started, he could focus his energies on his work. There was a lot to plan for. He could almost hear Maes' angry demands for an explanation when he told him how the merger was going to finish playing out. The chance that the deal would fall through was very high. That would mean that the site of the new building would have to be re-tasked and leased, potentially costing him millions in redesign and delays. The project was precariously close to going over budget already. Well, there was nothing for it. If, no, when they went over budget, it would cut into the year end dividends and potentially call his leadership into question. Worse case, the board of directors would vote him out at the next shareholder's meeting, which just happened to be only months away.

"Fine time to grow some morals, Roy," he mumbled. Rather then sitting at his desk, he made his way over to his wet bar and started the coffee machine. He needed some caffeine to deal with this mess, and lots of it. The thought of food, however, did not appeal to him right now.

* * *

"How's it look? Is it straight?"

"Its fine; stop picking," whispered Winry, slapping Al's hand away for the fifth time. The man just couldn't wear a bowtie without fiddling with it.

"It's a little tight, though, don't you think?" asked Al, pulling at the strap around his neck and pulling a pained face.

"Don't be a baby, Al," teased Winry, smiling. She pulled his arm away and found his hand, entwining their fingers together. "We're about to get married, so you better behave."

"Yes, dear," murmured Al, a wicked leer on his face. "You know, once we're married, I think you should wear an apron."

"I don't cook. Why would I bother?" wondered Winry. The taxi slowed to a stop in front of the municipal building. Leaning forward, she looked up at the French renaissance exterior and was happy to note that she didn't feel the least bit nervous for what they were about to do. For the first time in a long while she was sure of her choices. She was going to be the one to set things right…as soon as she discovered just what was going on for sure. But this was one less step that would get in their way. It also had the added benefit of foiling Al's parents—or Al's father's plans for an extra large wedding.

"I don't want you to cook, hon," murmured Al in aside as he handed the driver the fare. Winry frowned at Al's profile, waiting on him to finish explaining. Al opened the door and exited the car. He held out his hand for Winry to take and he pulled her out of the car to his side. "I want you to wear _only_ the apron," whispered Al directly into her hair beside her ear.

"But that would leave…" Winry paused as the full impact of Al's words settled in her brain and made her shiver. She turned in Al's arms and smirked at the man. "Pervert."

Al grinned like a naughty school boy. Holding her close, he led the way up the front steps to City Hall. "Well, you know, we are going to be newlyweds. Kinky is in."

Winry snorted a laugh. "I like your kinky, hon, but an apron? I suppose you want it to be a frilly nightmare and in a horrid polyester-blend pattern that does nothing to bring out the color in my eyes."

"You certainly know how to talk dirty, babe," said Al in a husky deep voice that went straight to her loins. She could only shake her head at her soon-to-be husband as he reached out and pulled the door open for her to pass.

"Good morning," a middle-aged security guard said as they entered the lobby. He was mid-way to the desk in the middle of the room when they entered. He had paused to view the early arrivals. "First thing in the morning; we don't often get visitors so promptly. I just unlocked the door… I wager…you're getting married? Am I right?"

Winry smiled as Al's arm pulled her more firmly against his body. "Yes, indeed, sir. You'd be a great help to us if you could direct us to the correct office. We're eloping, you see," said Al.

"Good! Young people should be together. I must say though, you two are very fine looking people. Congratulations to you both! I hope this is a good match for you," the man said. He waved them down the adjacent hallway with a wave for Al and a blown kiss for Winry.

"Well, he seemed like a nice fellow," said Al, tugging at his neck tie again. "I never did like these monkey suits, though."

"If I have to wear an apron and nothing else, you can suffer through wearing a monkey suit, because it might be my kink. You look fuckable, dear."

"Is that right," murmured Al, smirking and puffing out his chest slightly. He was so cute when he was complemented.

"Yes, that's right, now leave it alone," chided Winry. "What office do we go to?"

"I don't know; I didn't look. Didn't you check before I arrived?"

"No, I was scheming. I didn't have time to do something like that."

"Well, we'll just have to look at the door names and hope that helps," suggested Al.

"Okay—oh, that reminds me; I'm not sure we'll be able to have a honeymoon, is that okay? Alex called me just before we left. Things are moving forward nicely. Now it just depends on Roy." Winry look over at Al's profile. "I might be too busy, but I hope not."

"Darling, what you plan to do is more generous then I could have ever hoped of from you. I knew your heart was large enough for more then just yourself." Al put his arm around her shoulders and drew her into his side for an affectionate squeeze. "I love you," he murmured, leaning down to place a kiss against her temple.

"I know you don't mean to make me sound like a heartless bitch," whispered Winry, turning in Al's arms and stopping them in the middle of the hallway. "I've been thinking a lot about my past behavior. I want to show everyone that I'm not just a playgirl; I _am_ someone who has compassion for others. I just haven't had the inclination to show anyone."

"I know." Al wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her with his strong arms. She felt calm here. It quieted all the lengthy lists of things that needed doing before they left this place and headed downtown. She had been on the phone most of the night, convincing the lawyers on staff to draw up the papers she wanted. There had been a lot of confusion and resistance but in the end they did as she wished. They were going to meet with everyone soon and hopefully, _hopefully_ all would be settled.

* * *

Edward woke at six-forty-five, staring at the ceiling and thinking. His whole trip home had been an utter failure. He almost wished that he hadn't gone to the World's but rather stayed in Paris with Russell and Fletcher and just hung out like normal. That way, he would never have to know what Roy's kisses felt like, or how those hands felt on his body. Now he had to go back to Paris with his proverbial tail between his legs, and explain why the hell he was there.

His intention had been to apply to some schools either within the state or maybe abroad, in Canada or Australia. While he could still do that, he would have to make his decisions in Paris, not at home.

Home… It didn't even feel like home anymore. It felt like he didn't belong anywhere. How could he feel like he belonged? His father was not okay with his sexual orientation and he was not welcomed by the Mustangs—or Roy, that is. The only reason he would have wanted to stay was Patricia but even that wasn't enough of a reason to stay.

Ed lifted his swollen hand towards the ceiling, staring at the split and raw looking knuckles. He wished he had punched Roy instead of the wall. If he hadn't of held back that first punch…he could have most likely broken Roy's nose.

A gloomy sigh escaped his lips. No he didn't. He didn't want to hit Roy, not really. Though he was still very angry for how he had been played. Roy had seen right though him and had used that for his advantage. He wondered when Roy had figured out that he was gay, or maybe Roy had gambled. Perhaps he'd given himself away? He couldn't remember now if he had said it directly or not.

Edward turned onto his side and pulled the comforter up around his shoulders, his mind stilling for the moment. His eyes roved around the room, seeming to impart everything to memory. He might never come back here now. This would be the last time he would see his room or the things he had grown up with. They were only things, but they were _his_ things, and he was going to miss them all the same.

His da was sure surprised about him being gay, he thought. He was scared—really scared—for his relationship with his da. They were so close and he depended on him so much that he was afraid for what this was going to mean for him now. He was going to try to make things right before he left or at least close to right so that at least they could work at making things better. He hadn't given much of a chance to respond last night, but at least he had come clean and told him about Roy. Whether that was a good choice or not, at least he could console himself with the knowledge that he hadn't hidden anything else.

There was a soft knocking at his door, making Edward turn over and blink. "Yes?"

The door pushed back and his da poked his face into the crack. "Son? May I come in?" Edward nodded his assent, shifting back so that he could sit up against the headboard. His father entered slowly, closing the door behind him and sat at the foot of Edward's bed.

His da sat silently for a moment, looking at his slippered feet. Edward could see that he didn't look rested at all. He had dark bags under his tired eyes and he slumped forward. Did he stay up all night?

"Son…you know that I love you?"

"You do?" questioned Edward. It was cruel but he couldn't help himself. The question just slipped out without his meaning to. But now that it was out there, he wanted to know—to hear it said aloud.

"I do," his da said quietly, looking him in the eye so that Edward would see the truth in his statement.

Edward held his gaze for long moments before he sighed and looked down at his lap. "I know. Sorry…" he mumbled ashamedly.

"I don't, however, understand why you would choose a man over a woman. There's no purpose to being with a man, no _result_, no marriage, no children…but…I don't want to lose you from my life. As much as I don't understand, after talking with Patricia all night, I realize that I can't stand the thought of you never talking to me again." A warm hand gently landed on his shin and began to stroke along his leg.

"I don't want to lose you either… So…does this mean we're good? Or maybe close to good?" ventured Edward hopefully. He glanced at his father in apprehension.

"Close; with much work and understanding ahead of us—or me, if you like," replied his father. Edward smiled wanly, not looking forward to the discussions that were to come. At least he wasn't cut off entirely.

"This business with Roy, though. I would like to know more about what he did to you." The rare, hard tone to his father's voice made Edward look up sharply in shock. "I would like to have a word with him about his lack of consideration towards other people's feelings."

"Ah—no, that's okay, da, you don't have to do anything. I handled it already."

"Son, you know that you're too soft to handle these hard challenges in life, let me help support you—"

"No you don't get it. I grew up da. I don't need your help like that anymore…but thanks anyway…for offering."

His father sighed sadly and just looked at him appraisingly. "Are you really leaving today?" he asked.

"Yes, I have to," replied Edward, relived that his father wasn't going to pursue the issue with Roy any further. He didn't want his father doing anything foolish that would jeopardize his job here. "I don't really belong here anymore. I'm going to Paris. What's not to love about Paris, right?—plus, I found myself there. I really feel more at home there then I will ever feel here. I just don't belong here."

"I understand," murmured his father. A simple silence fell over them, one that wasn't burdened with worries or loud thoughts, just quiet and togetherness. Edward ran a hand through his loose hair, smoothing it back away from his face and stared at his father. Though tired looking, he still had a lot of vitality for his age and luckily for Edward, all his hair. He didn't look like he was almost fifty-two, and Edward hoped that he looked even half as good as his father at that age. He had kind, knowledgeable eyes that really understood things. He could remember his da telling him all sorts of stories of the books he'd read and how one day Edward would be the one to visit all those places. And now he was going to do just that. He was no longer burdened with pining after Winry. He was truly free from all that now.

With a smile, Edward crawled out from under the cover and made his way towards his da. Curious, his father watched him until he was kneeling beside him looking at each other. Edward reached out with one hand and then paused, a slight frown marring his forehead.

"Is it still okay for hugs?" asked Edward just to be sure. He had almost done so without thought, but at the last moment, he figured that asking in this situation was required. For his answer, his father smiled at him and then enveloped him in his arms, pulling him down against his chest. Edward was instantly the six-year-old boy again being comforted by his father after a hard tumble from a tree or other such adventure gone wrong.

After a time, his da pulled away, brushing Edward's hair back. "You're hair has gotten so long. Are you going to copy me?"

Edward chuckled slightly. "And if I was?" His father chuckled in return.

"How about I make some breakfast and then I can drive you over to the airport," his father suggested.

"Breakfast sounds great, but I think I'll take a cab, if you don't mind. I would like to do this on my own."

"You did grow up," his father said, almost sadly. Edward smiled kindly as his father stood and went to his door. "Come out in fifteen."

"Sure," said Edward as the door closed.

* * *

Patricia stood back as she watched Edward say his goodbyes to the staff. Mei Chang cried and talked over everyone whether or not someone listened to her. Fu shook Edward's hand and then bowed over their clasped hands, murmured something that made Edward go red and then bowed again before backing away to let the next person say their goodbye. She was so proud of Edward's ability to endear people to himself. He had grown into a fine man and she knew that no matter what happened to him now, he would find a way to come out on top.

A fond smile spread across her face as Edward lifted his case up and stowed it in the trunk of the cab. Poor Hohenheim; he had kept her up all night just talking about how much he had loved Edward and wondering what he should do now. It had taken a long time for her to get him to realize that nothing had changed other then that Edward was leaving sooner then expected. She had to constantly remind him that Edward always planned on studying away from home.

"Why won't he let me drive him," whined Hohenheim as he stepped up to her shoulder.

"He's a man now, Hohenheim, let him do as he pleases," she admonished. Patricia crossed her arms under her breasts and watched Edward fondly. "I'm so happy that you shared Edward with me. I never got to have one of my own, but with that sweet boy, I felt as if I was his mother."

"He begged me to let you be his mother, you know. Every night when I tucked him into bed, he'd ask… I almost wish I had followed my son's suggestion. I would have realized so much sooner how I feel about you, but I got complacent."

"I don't know what to say to that," Patricia admitted. She did care for Hohenheim, of course, but she wanted to make him dangle a little for being so dense for so long.

"Hm," grunted Hohenheim. "I'm glad I said my goodbyes inside or else I wouldn't have had the chance. Do you think Mei Chang will ever let go of his arm?"

"Oh, that girl! I swear, I don't know what I'm going to do with her," said Patricia, watching Mei Chang make a fool out of herself. Edward was trying to be nice, she saw, but he looked like he was thinking about putting a hand to her face and just pushing her away.

In silence, they watched the flustered Edward extract himself from Mei Chang's hold, giving her a slight but forceful push on her shoulder before moving towards the car.

"Marry me," Hohenheim said.

Patricia looked side long at the man beside her and clicked her tongue. "Nonsense."

"Marry me, please. If not for love, then how about money."

"Stop that," said Patricia, frowning now. Hidden under her crossed arms, her fist clenched. She didn't glance at Hohenheim while he was no doubt looking at her. "I suppose you're going to say that you have a million dollars and you want to whisk me away to some remote island—"

"Actually, it's something like two point five million…"

"_What_…" gasped Patricia, her arms falling to her side. She turned and looked up into Hohenheim's face, but he was watching his son.

"I think I'll give half to Edward once he's settled back in Paris, but the rest—" He looked down finally and gazed into her eyes. "The rest will be for us. Say you'll marry me, Patricia."

"How on Earth did you get all that money?"

"Mrs. Mustang never did close the divider between us all those years, and—Roy—didn't either. When they bought, I bought, when they sold, I sold. I started out slowly; only a little bit invested here and there, but over fifteen years, it added up."

"And you never told any of us? You never shared any of that knowledge. Why?"

"I don't know, really. I just started following their buying and selling, more out of curiosity then looking for a profit. But then when I started really making money…I didn't know how to say anything. And now, Edward will no longer be considered 'help'. He'll have his own small fortune that he can do with as he likes—though, I hope that he invests at least some of it—but, I'm sure my son will be wise enough to realize that."

"So, now you're okay with Edward being gay?" asked Patricia. She was still reeling internally from the news that Hohenheim was very wealthy.

"Well, not _okay_ but 'okay', as the kids say these days. It'll take some adjustment but I hope very much that it will be okay." Hohenheim lifted his hand and waved at the cab. Patricia looked towards Edward and numbly waved goodbye as well. Edward smiled and blew her a kiss before sitting in the car. The door closed with a slam and he was gone.

"Patricia…?"

Patricia blinked and let her hands fall back to her side. With a sigh, she said, "Let's go have some tea before you take Mrs. Mustang to the city." This was going to another long conversation but one that would work in her favor…and Hohenheim's.

--To Be Continued—

There you have it. Another chapter and things are progressing again. Don't expect the next chapter to come as quickly (unless providence smiles upon me).

Please review!


	27. Chapter 26

Disclaimer: I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

Yay! Yaoi_girl69 came back! I missed you, hon!

This is my new favorite chapter. It practically wrote itself and it's so funny to me. I hope you all enjoy it half as much as I did.

**Chapter 26**

"Roy, what's the meaning of all this?" asked Pinako as she hurried into Roy's office. "Alex says you want some sort of meeting?"

Roy looked up from his desktop and quickly glanced at his mother before giving his attentions to the two lawyers seated before him. "Be with you in a moment, mother," replied Roy absently. He began searching through the papers on his desk in a frantic, distracted manner. "And I want you do draw up the papers that will absolve the company from having to pay any more 'financial rewards' unless he ponies up something in return, got that?" Roy glanced at the two men seated in front of him to catch their nod and then he went back to rifling through the papers, waving one hand negligently in dismissal.

"Yes, mother, what can I do for you?" asked Roy, glancing once more at his mother.

"You called a meeting," reply Pinako dryly, arching an eyebrow at him.

"That's not until Hughes gets here—where the hell is that paper," growled Roy, now going through his desk drawer in his search.

"Are you all right?" Pinako asked, moving to stand in front of his desk and eying him suspiciously.

"I'm fine—Alex," barked Roy, jamming his finger on the intercom button. "Is the third quarter report out there with you?" He continued to rummage through his desk and then his desktop as he listened for his assistant's reply.

"_No sir, did you want me to print you another copy?"_ Alex asked.

"Ah! Found it!" Roy jabbed the intercom cutting Alex off without another word and he fell back into his chair with a fwump and began to review the numbers it contained. Sticking out his tongue, Roy highlighted a few points to go over with the accountants later when he had time. Maybe he should have Alex schedule that or else he'd never remember or get the time to do it on the fly.

"Roy…_are_ you feeling alright?"

"Hmm? Oh, mother, what are you doing here? The meeting's not until Maes gets here. Come back then." Roy waved his mother away and flipped to the second page. He heard the door to his office open a moment later and then the rise and fall of voices as his door closed again. With his office now empty, Roy turned towards his credenza cabinet behind him where his eyes caught sight of the trophy and photo Edward had left in his office.

He couldn't quite see the contents of the photo from where it had ended up, facing the room, but Roy knew that if he just stood from his chair and walked but two steps he'd be looking at Edward mid-jump with that wonderfully dynamic sword flashing and be lost. But to not look at it was like a slow burning acid eating away at the back of his mind. He knew it was there and that it was calling for him to touch it, hold it, stare at it; he wanted to memorize Edward's look of serene concentration and the way the lights made his hair shine. It was only because he had such a strong will that he was still seated firmly in his chair. He definitely couldn't go near it.

* * *

By the time Maes arrived at one, Roy had achieved some measure of control over himself, even getting some substantial work done and off to other desks to disseminate around the office. He was grateful that he could get this meeting started and out of the way. He'd at least know how to position the company and make plans for the very likely expensive hit to the bottom line he was about to get tagged with.

Maes was sitting at one of his chairs at his conference table, talking lowly with his wife who had come along with him. They were now waiting on the lawyers and his mother to make their appearance. Normally, Roy would have been chatting with Maes and Gracia trying to make them feel welcome and soliciting their favor, but he didn't have the will to play those games today. So he was sitting sullenly at his desk, picking away at some numbers on his computer and waiting to lay out all his plans and finally be rid of this ugly chapter in his life.

He could sense the looks he was getting from the conference table and didn't care to acknowledge them in away way. He was done playing to Maes's tune and he was done _playing_. It was all business from here on out and it was almost time for Edward and Winry's flight to be taking off. He wished them the best of luck for their new life together. With them gone, there could be no way that Maes would try to drag her back.

"Okay, Roy, we're here," Pinako said, pushing the door open for the two lawyers that followed her in.

"Good," said Roy, standing and flicking his pen amongst the papers. "Maes, Gracia, mother…" Roy walked towards the table, motioning his mother and the lawyers forward. Once they were seated, and Roy stood at the head of the table, he began. "I'm calling this meeting to inform you that the merger is off."

"What—!" growled Maes, rising from his chair in shock.

"Roy!" admonished Pinako, looking scandalized.

"What's the meaning of this, Mustang? I think you owe me an explanation." Maes stood from his seat and leaned across the table, planting one hand against the table top and pointing a finger at Roy's chest with the other.

"I've decided that basing this partnership on a wedding isn't in the company's best interests and have taken steps to absolve the current merger proceedings to date and if you would sign these papers—" Roy motioned to the lawyers who were already pulling fat stacks of paper from their cases and sliding it across to Maes with a pen on top. "We can move quickly and efficiently."

"What the hell, Roy! What brought this on?" asked Maes, throwing his hand up in confusion.

"Dear! Language," scolded Gracia.

"Sorry," Maes murmured. "Was it because I teased you too much? You know, if you didn't give me those bathrooms, I wouldn't have really have pulled out of this merger."

"Roy, I think an explanation is in order," Pinako demanded. Roy turned his attentions to her, seeing utter incomprehension on her face. "Perhaps you are feeling unwell…?

"I'm fine, mother. If you would just sign, Maes," said Roy, turning back to Maes with an expectant look.

"Was it because I kept calling? You know I couldn't help myself there either. You act so cold that I couldn't help but try to push your buttons," said Maes. Roy clenched his molars tight. He hadn't gotten the sense that any of Maes's bullying was anything but serious and he didn't buy this half-assed explanation.

"Roy, you really should explain. This is so sudden," Pinako said, looking like she might jump out of her seat and check for fever any moment.

"I've said I'm fine, Pinako. Drop it," snapped Roy. His mother raised an eyebrow at him and he turned away and looked expectantly at Maes.

"It's alright, Alex, I know he'll want to see us. You finish that thing I told you about, okay?"

Roy looked up at the new interruption to see his sister talking over her shoulder. He frowned. "Winry, now's not the time. As you can see, we're in the middle of a meet—wait a minute! What are you doing here? You should be at the airport!"

"Ah, Roy, there you are," said Winry, limping into the office and ignoring his shout.

"Goodness, should you be walking dear?" asked Gracia, looking worriedly at her as she moved towards the conference table.

"Oh, it's no problem," Winry said, waving it away. Al suddenly appeared at her side, impeccably dressed in a dark suit with a loose bowtie hanging down his chest and a warm grin for everyone in the office.

"Son! When did you get home?" asked Maes, smiling widely at his boy. "You're looking very fashionable. We weren't expecting you for days yet."

"I know, Winry called me back early, and I'm glad she did," said Al, coming along side of Winry and throwing an arm about her shoulders and drawing her to his side.

"Hold on, where's Edward?" demanded Roy. He rounded the conference table and stalked towards his sister. "You should be with him."

"Who's Edward?" asked Maes, bewildered.

"I think it was that boy who danced with Winry that time," said Gracia, still seated at the conference table and smiling at her husband and son.

"I suspect that he must be at the airport by now. What time was the flight?" wondered Winry coyly making a big show of looking at her titanium wrist watch.

"You let him leave?" asked Roy, aghast. "How could you let him leave? He was in love with you!"

"This guy was in love with you?" asked Al, raising an eyebrow at Winry. "I didn't hear this."

"No; remember hon? I said he liked me but then he liked Roy for some reason. Remember?" Winry smiled sweetly as Al nodded slowly.

"Riiiiight. Now I remember. It's like a soap opera; there's so many twists and turns I can't hardly keep it straight."

"Don't worry, dear. I'll draw you a map later," Winry teased. Al smirked at her and gave her a tiny flirtatious wink.

Roy growled threateningly. "I assumed you cared for him like he cared for you. You should be with him!"

"I can't leave my husband to go play with a boy-toy; shame on you Roy for even suggesting it." Winry's eyes sparkled with humor as she looked at Roy.

"Husband? What?" sputtered Pinako.

"So, apparently, as Winry tells it, this guy Edward has loved Winry from afar since they were all kids, and since Winry was only being Winry, she got swept up in his charm," said Al, squeezing Winry to his side.

"But then Roy got all protective of the merger and took advantage of the fact that I had broken my ankle and used that time to 'take care of Edward'," added Winry. Her voice took on a mocking tone as she spoke of Roy's handling of Edward and she rolled her eyes.

"I like this part, though," said Al, taking up the story again. "He goes and takes Edward away so that he can have him all to himself so that he'll fall for Roy, but then _he_ falls for Edward, too!"

"What! I didn't," protested Roy.

"Yeah, but I think maybe you tried to buy some sex from him and it backfired," finished Al, laughing. In the end Al was—had been—just as much a playboy as Winry was a playgirl. He knew how these things worked after all.

Roy was furious! His fists shook at his sides at the assumption that he had to buy sex—that he'd buy it from Edward! Before he knew what he intended to do, he had crossed the distance between them, and punched Al squarely in the chin, sending him reeling to the floor.

"Al! Roy—what are you doing?" yelled Winry, staggering a little as Al almost toppled her too.

"Ha ha! See, Winry? I told you he loves him! I was right!" crowed Al triumphantly from the floor. He pointed at Roy, grinning like a fool, unmindful of the bloody lip Roy had given him. Roy's anger deflated immediately as he saw Al sprawled below him.

"Roy!" Pinako's disapproving voice left him feeling like a chastised child. Suddenly Alex came into his office carrying a suitcase and an envelope. Alex looked down at Al who was being assisted to his feet by Winry in a most unsteady manner.

"What's that?" asked Roy, feeling like he had somehow lost all control of this day. He pointed at the case in Alex's hand suspiciously.

"Some essentials for your trip, sir," replied Alex. Placing the case on the floor off to the side of the door, Alex reached out with one of his bear-like hands and steadied Al and Winry, even offering a cotton handkerchief to Al to take care of his lip.

"My trip?" asked Roy thoroughly gob smacked. "I'm not going anywhere… You went to my place? You touched my stuff!"

"Yes," said Alex, beaming at him with those damned sparkles. He was losing it. Visual hallucinations… "It was like seeing inside the workings of a brilliant mind for the first time. You even organized your underwear by color."

Roy's jaw dropped at the audacity of his assistant. "How did you get into my place?"

"I gave him a key," Pinako said. Roy whirled around to stare at her in astonishment.

"Well, I do believe that Edward's flight has already left," said Winry, glancing at her watch again. "I guess you'll just have to catch up with him on the other side of the ocean. But if you leave now, you'll still be able to make all your connections. I had Alex re-book your flight, so even leaving after Edward, you'll have less holdovers and should—hopefully—get there in lots of time to ambush him."

Alex held out the envelope for Roy to take. Roy could only blink stupidly at his sister with a slight crease of confusion marring his brow. "Wait—what...?"

Winry was already hobbling towards the lawyers, who, as she approached, held out a new bundle of papers for her to take. "Okay, Roy, come here and sign these papers."

Roy looked around at the people watching him feeling disjointed and apart from himself. His mind had never been slow to pick things up, but right now, Roy felt as if he was missing something so large that he was struggling to pull all the pieces together in order to understand this situation. In a daze, Roy took the envelope from Alex and made his way towards the conference table to see if looking at these 'papers' would help his confusion any.

As he approached, Winry began ticking off what which each paper represented. "This one is to complete the merger, and this one is to give me the raise I'll need when I take over your job."

"How—how did you find this out? Mother? Did you tell her?" asked Roy, taking the first of the papers absently.

"Winry figured most of it all on her own, and I filled in the rest. Roy, I think it's time for you to leave home," Pinako said.

Swallowing, Roy glanced at the paper in his hand and then across the table at Gracia who smiled at him. Feeling lost, he looked at Maes and then Al before returning his attention to the paper in his hand. He then looked across his office to a forgotten frame and trophy, thinking of the owner. "He'll hate me. I can't—"

"Just let him smack you up a bit; I'm sure he'll forgive you in time," said Winry, a teasing note in her voice.

"Go, Roy," his mother whispered. He felt the last of his meek resistance fall away. But he couldn't just _leave_. Who would he be if not a CEO? What would he do in Paris? What if Edward didn't want him after all?

He looked at the paper in his hands, not seeing any of the words. Edward's smiling face floated into his mind's eye and then it shifted to the hurt and betrayed look that hurt him just thinking about it. How could he ever hope to make it right again with Edward after being responsible for causing that _look_?

"I don't even know where to find him…"

Winry handed him a pen, pointing to the space he needed to sign. "You'll find him because you love him," she said.

"That's hardly helpful," murmured Roy, taking the pen and signing first one paper and then the other. Quickly and with a firm, sure hand, he signed over control of the company to Winry.

"Here," said Al, thrusting his suitcase at Roy. "The car's waiting for you downstairs. You better hurry."

Roy took another look at the people in his office, bemused and shell shocked. His eyes finally landed on his mother and she held out her hand to him. Taking her hand, Roy nodded once, then twice. "You okay with this?" he asked. "Me and Edward?"

"Of course, Roy, it's hardly even an issue these days," said Pinako. "Go find him."

"Right." Roy shifted the case in his hand. "Right…well…" He started to edge his way to the door. "If you'll excuse me…it seems I've another appointment." Alex opened the door for him and he was out of the office with Alex following behind.

"Sir, in the envelope, you'll find your passport and ticket. I've ordered some Euros in various denominations and you can pick it up at the counter while you check your bag; anything else you need, please call me."

Roy nodded, listening closely to Alex's instructions. At the elevator, they stood side by side and suddenly Roy felt self-conscious at having him at his elbow. Turning to the large man, Roy smiled. "Thank you, Alex. You've been a wonderful assistant. Don't give Winry too much trouble, hm?"

Quite unexpectedly, though the whole meeting was unexpected, Alex enveloped him in a bone crushing hug. Roy gasped an ineffectual protest as he could hear his ribs groan in warning. "The Armstrong line is known for its altruistic endeavors, and this is one endeavor that will be the most illustrious of them all," said Alex, plopping Roy back onto his feet, and slapping his shoulders. Roy felt as if his knees would buckle under the force of those large, heavy hands.

"Ah…thanks…Alex. Please don't ever hug me again," said Roy. His suit was now thoroughly rumpled from his treatment so when he brushed at it he did nothing more then to ease his nerves. When he looked at his assistant one last time, it was to find Alex crying openly with a smile. He'd always know that Alex was a touch sentimental but this was a bit much. Feeling decidedly uncomfortable, Roy pressed the call button on the elevator, wishing Alex would go back to his desk. Unfortunately, he remained until Roy got on the elevator and the doors closed around him.

When Roy stepped into the parkade and saw Hohenheim standing beside the back door of the waiting car, he stopped dead in shock. Unfazed, Hohenheim opened the door for him and waited silently for him to get inside. As Roy stared at his driver's face, he saw that there were a multitude of thoughts happening beneath the surface, but couldn't identify the nature, good or bad. His already tumultuous feelings were thrown into new disarray as he forced himself forward and into the back seat.

The slam of the car door echoed through the parking complex. Roy watched as Hohenheim walked around the front of the car and slid behind the driver's seat. Still without comment, Hohenheim started the car and made his slow careful way to the exit.

Roy burned with the need to say something, to discover if Hohenheim knew anything of what he'd done to his son. He could feel the weight of judgment on him and didn't know if he was just transferring his guilt onto Hohenheim or if it was real. He looked in the rear view mirror as they pulled into traffic, finding that his driver was currently intent on the road and not him. He fidgeted in his seat, wanting to broach the subject but not sure how or where to begin. Edward had said that he'd come out to his father and it didn't go over well. How would Hohenheim react if he suddenly blurted out that within a span of days he had made Edward fall in love with him, broke his heart, offered him money to stay away from Winry and now wanted to chase after him to somehow make it up to him? It sounded ludicrous even to him. He couldn't begin to imagine how it'd sound to Hohenheim.

Just before turning onto the freeway, Roy, watching the road out the front window, caught movement and looked at Hohenheim in the rear view mirror. Their eyes locked and Roy became conscious of himself like never before. He was unaccustomed to these uneasy feelings and didn't know how to act or what to say even as his mouth opened uselessly as if to speak up.

"You forced Edward away," Hohenheim said, barely loud enough to be heard over the sounds of the engine and the passing cars around them. Hohenheim's voice was steel and simmering anger; the righteous anger of a parent whose child was has been hurt.

Roy deflated, letting the seat support his body. "Yes," he said, casting his eyes down to the space between his seat and the front where his feet rested. His guilt, which until now, he'd coaxed away with rationalizations, hit him at full force as the weight of what he'd done fully settled on him. As Edward had said, he was a bastard, the very worst kind.

"You hurt him," Hohenheim said next, driving the ache Roy was feeling even deeper.

"Yes," said Roy. He was in agony picturing Edward's betrayed face, and his over shinny eyes. How he hated himself for causing that look. He just wanted to make sure a look like that never, ever crossed Edward's face again. "I'm sorry." His gaze was blindly focused on the diamond patterned seat in front of him. Questions and doubts; was he doing the right thing? How could he just up and leave the company in the middle of a merger? How would he ever find Edward on his own and could he even hope that if he asked, Hohenheim would tell him?

"I'm not the one to apologize to."

"Even still, I'm sorry. I didn't want—I didn't mean for things to turn out like this. I…have no excuse." Roy clenched his teeth, making his jaw flex. Humility wasn't something he practiced ever. To be humble now was a sobering lesson in just how much he cared for Edward. That didn't make it any easier for him to say it or admit his culpability in for what had happen.

"So, what are you going to do then?" asked Hohenheim. "Once you find him, you'll force him to be with you?"

"No!" Roy sat up, looking at Hohenheim in the rear view mirror. "No, I'd…I'm done with manipulation. If he doesn't want me, I'll come back and never bother him again."

"If he wants you…?" asked Hohenheim, his voice still quiet and barely heard over the ambient noises; hard and angry. Roy thought he even heard some doubt in there, maybe some confusion.

"If…if I'm so lucky…" Roy bowed his head. This was almost laughable. He was never so unsure of anything in his life, but never so desperate for it work out. Somehow, someway…it had to work. Now that he knew what it was like to kiss Edward, to simply be around him, to be able to hear and make him laugh because he'd said something funny; if there was even a small chance to try and have Edward love him back, he couldn't pass it up. Swallowing hard, Roy cleared his throat of the sudden blockage. "If I'm so lucky, I'll be sure to never hurt him again."

Hohenheim was silent, watching him closely and then the road, then back. "You manipulated him once, what's to say you won't do so again?"

"I think…" Roy sighed. "I think that all relationships involve manipulation on some level. But…I promise that I will never go to such lengths again. I can't change who I am so quickly. I can only hope that Edward will forgive my faults and love me as I love him."

Silence met Roy's statement. He didn't know what to expect from Hohenheim, but as the minutes ticked by he realized that he craved some sort of absolution of his crime from Edward's father. He knew he didn't deserve such kindness but he hoped… If Edward's father could forgive him, it would give him hope that perhaps Edward could too.

The car pulled onto the turnoff for the airport and still there was no response from Hohenheim. "Hohenheim, I know it's a lot to ask, but I would be honored to have your blessing. I'm sure it'd mean a lot to Edward, too."

Hohenheim glanced at him in the mirror. "In all the years I've been with your family, I have never seen you like this, Mr. Mustang. You have never been so impulsive and quick to apologize for anything you've done to anyone. And I've seen some of the things you've done."

Roy opened his mouth to interject, wanting to tell Hohenheim that he should call him 'Roy' now, and that he'd been impulsive once before…maybe, but Hohenheim continued.

"That my son, seemingly in a short period of time, has made you realize the feelings of others and empathize—even fall in love—" Hohenheim gave a sad shake of his head. "I admit to a lack of understanding with regards to a—gay…lifestyle, but I can not deny how you have changed. I love my son dearly, even still."

They pulled up to the international departures and stopped, but Roy was frozen in his seat daring to hope that he might have a chance. "Hohenheim, I—"

"If you hurt him…" interrupted Hohenheim.

"I'll do everything in my power to ensure that does not happen," promised Roy quickly. Hohenheim got out of the car then, prompting Roy to do the same. They looked across the roof at each other.

Hohenheim pressed his lips and sighed through his nose. "His apartment is located at 234 Rue de Chêne...number twenty-three."

"Thank you… Thank you, Hohenheim!" Roy took a moment to meet Hohenheim's gaze steadily willing the knowledge that he was grateful to pass between them. After a moment, his driver nodded once and waved him away. With that, Roy was dashing inside to get checked in and boarded. Anticipation was hideous and made his stomach roll and he kept repeating the address over and over in his head. He'd have to write it down as soon as he could for fear of forgetting, and then how would he find Edward? Paris was too large and it was too easy to get lost.

Check-in was a blur of picking up his Euros and rushing through security. He was informed that boarding was already well on its way but that they would hold the plane until he was through customs. Having money had its advantages as he was rushed to the front of every line and guided to the departure gate. Finally he was settled and the plane was taxing out. He now had the whole flight to think of Edward and hope beyond hope that he'd be allowed to be given a second chance.

--To Be Continued—

Very near the end now, bois and girls!

I think some of you didn't like the last two chapters (not very many reviews at all!) So I hope that this one re-inspires your love for this fic. The next chapters are fighting me mightily, but I'm fighting them back! I'll try to get them out soon ;D

Please review.


	28. Chapter 27

Disclaimer: I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

Beta'd by Yaoi_girl69, who always has the most awesomest thoughts. Also, I'm sorry that I went all mental on you and emailed you so often. I was totally spazzing over this chapter… hehe…oops.

Also, reading Jane Austin while writing this has influenced some of my word choice. So if this chapter has a more 'English' feel to it, it's because of that. And I now know what my writing style is mostly made up of: Free Indirect Discourse - a way of representing a characters speech or thought by combining direct discourse with narratorial commentary. Good to know a new term!

(1) Homage to the remake; line taken from the movie. It was too good to pass up and I couldn't improve on perfection ;D

**Chapter 27**

Winry watched as the door closed behind her brother and smiled wide. She then turned her smile on the people left behind and then to her husband. She'd done it! It seemed impossible, but she'd done it! She actually got Roy to get off his ass and _live_ for once! Doing nice things for others was great. She'd be sure to do more of it in the future and with Al beside her, think of all the good they could do.

"Well, people," she said, pulling everyone back to the meeting, clapping her hands together. She held her hand out behind her and one of the lawyers put a folder of paper in her hand. "I would like to draw your attention to some cash hemorrhaging that this merger is currently placing our mutual resources."

Winry hobbled around the table, handing out the report she'd whipped up late last night in between scheming with Al and planning her coup d'état. "If we shut down the manufacturing plant that you own, Maes, and transfer the operations to one of Mustang Inc.'s factories—which happens to be more advanced and efficient—we'll be able to cut almost a full twenty-five percent margin loss and turn that into a profit gain, increasing our dividends by a projected five dollars a share."

"So much?" asked Maes, taking the paper Winry offered as she made her way next to Gracia and then her mother.

"_Winry_?" Pinako said, shock and disbelief mixing equally as she gapped at her daughter.

"What?" asked Winry, giving her mother a sardonic look. "You've been Cc'ing me on the financial reports for years…you just assumed I couldn't read. (1)" Winry smiled wide as her mother continued to gape at her. Al had a proud, loving smile on his face when she looked at him, feeling buoyed at having his support and love. She was _so_ glad she had come to her senses when she did. Edward was a nice, sexy looking man, but her Al was all that and more. He was funny, confident, perverted, generous, and oh so cuddly. Winking at her new husband, Winry then turned back to the room to continue with the meeting.

* * *

Edward had never flown first class before, so being seated up on the second floor of a giant aircraft and being offered a hot towel to apparently wash his hands was quite the learning experience. It wasn't the same as flying in Roy's jet; that was much classier, but this commercial luxury was still on a level he wasn't comfortable with. He covertly watched the other first class passengers board and take their seats, leaving the seat next to Edward empty. He knew that it was Roy's seat that was glaringly empty next to him. It was a silent needle working on his mind, one that he couldn't ignore. Thinking that this flight would have been very different if Roy had joined him, Edward turned away from the seat beside him and watched out the window.

It could have been a happy flight with Roy here beside him. Maybe they would have had an engaging conversation and Roy wouldn't do any work, so all his attention would have been on Edward. But as nice as that mental image was, Edward knew that not long after they would have landed, Roy would somehow get up and leave; maybe with no explanation. One minute there, the next gone. The joke was on him then wasn't it? He was a fool; one that trusted way too easily. The plane began to move then.

They had taken off on time and half an hour into the flight, he began to think of Paris and all that was waiting for him there; his old apartment and his friends, his favorite hangouts and his walks along the river in order to force himself to stop thinking about Roy. He would be occupied for a time while he looked for a school he wanted to attend. He really liked the Macquarie University in Sydney, Australia or he could see if there was one he liked in Paris or England so he could stay relatively close to Russell. It would be easy to take the Chunnel to see him on the weekends.

Thinking of Russell reminded him that he should call him and let him know that he was going to be at the airport in a few hours. He _could _take a cab, but he'd like it if Russell could come and get him. After dealing with his father's reactions to his sexuality and Roy's manipulations, he could use a steady, understanding friend who would listen to his bitching for a while.

In the seat back in front of him, there happened to be a phone and a small TV screen. Digging out his wallet from his back pocket, Edward slid his credit card free.

"Sir, would you care for some champagne?" a male flight attendant asked, a large metal cart in front of him. "Or perhaps something else? We have most types of liquors and spirits."

"Ah…" Edward looked over the cart. Getting smashed in the air probably wasn't the best idea. As he thought about it though, right now he didn't care if it made him tipsy. He hadn't yet allowed himself the time to process everything that happened to him, and he didn't want to do it on the plane. But he knew, with nothing else to do, that's most likely exactly what he'd end up doing. Drinking would stop that…he hoped. "Sure, how much…?" He put his card in his lap and replaced the phone. His wallet still had some Euros in it as well as some American bills. So he should be able to pay with either one.

"It's complementary, sir; for flying first class," the man said, pouring out a tall glass of champagne into a delicate flute and handing it to Edward. '_Drink this fast and it won't seem so strange.'_ Winry's advice from that party seemed so long ago now. He couldn't believe it was only one week since he'd come home and all this shit happened. Edward tipped his head back and drank the champagne in one go. The bubbles tingled on their way down his throat straight to his stomach and he could swear that it was making him feel light headed already.

He tilted the glass sideways looking unseeingly through it at the seat in front of him. He was feeling displaced, lost, hurt—fuck, he was doing it again. He didn't want to re-catalogue his feelings once _again. _He just wanted to forget for a few hours, was that too hard a request to make? Just forget, it's nothing, it means nothing; it's over. Just forget…

When the flight attendant came back and asked if Edward would like another, he nodded and even ordered some little bottles for later.

He was so going to regret this.

He downed the second glass just as fast and he knew he was feeling lightheaded for certain now. He was by no means a lightweight when it came to drinking, though he didn't do it very often. It was never a good idea to drink too much while training, but he could usually hold his liquor better than this.

Picking up the phone again, Edward slid his card along the slot and waited to make his call. After a few minutes the phone was answered.

"_Allô?"_

"Russell; hey," said Edward, the white noise roar of the engines loud in his ears. Pinning the receiver against his shoulder, Edward flexed his damaged hand, splitting the newly formed scabs in masochistic glee. With a shake of his head, he grabbed the first of the little bottles and twisted off the cap.

"_Edward! Ma fois, it's good to hear from you? How was the tournament? I bet you got gold!" _

"Actually—no; and even better, I'm on my way back to Paris. My plans changed somewhat." Edward almost wished that they could have worked out but…while they were good friends, they just didn't spark. Not like how he did with Roy. God, why couldn't Roy have felt for him even a fraction of what he did…

"_What? How can that be? Did something happen?"_

"Oh yeah, lots happened, but I don't want to talk about it on the plane. I was kinda wondering…could you borrow Fletcher's car and pick me up? I'd rather have a friendly face over a cab driver."

"_I'm sure it won't be an issue. He's got Riza's car if he needs to go anywhere. I want to hear all about it, okay, and I can't wait to see you."_

"Yeah, me too." Edward felt a bit of trepidation at the coming story he would be required to relate. It wasn't like he didn't want to tell Russell what happened, but he would have to admit how stupid he was in _letting _Roy pull a fast one on him. Fuck! Stop thinking about him for just five minutes!

"_What time do you land?"_

"Um, jus' sec…" Edward dug through his messenger bag stashed down by his feet until he found his ticket stub. He actually had to blink a few times in order to get his eyes to focus on the lettering. "Uh, touch down 'round eleven a' night. I got two layovers, one in Iceland 'n' a short one in England and then I arrive a' Charles de Gaulle." There was silence for a moment on the other end. Thinking nothing of it, Edward took a drink straight from the mouth of the tiny bottle.

"_Edward…are you—you know what, never mind. I'll find out soon enough. Tell me your flight number, okay?"_

Edward blinked and then read him the numbers and again when Russell asked him to repeat it. He had a good buzz going now and he still had the rest of his mini bottles to drink. The meal should be served soon so that would soak up some of the alcohol in his system. He didn't even consider that the meal might make him sick.

"Thanks, Russell. See ya 'n a bit, 'kay?" After his friend said good-bye, Edward fumbled to replace the receiver. He felt totally bereft. There was an empty seat beside him and emptiness in his heart. He felt hollow, alone, like a fringin' a tool, and so stupid. But these maudlin thoughts were doing no good. He had to move on and put this behind him. He couldn't dwell on what was done to him forever, he needed to let it go—or try to.

* * *

Roy's plane landed at ten-thirty that evening and according to the board Edward's flight wouldn't touch down till a quarter-to-eleven. He contemplated waiting around in the baggage claim area for Edward to show up and try to talk to him there, but he feared how Edward would react after being surprised by his presence and then being surrounded by a curious public. He knew that Edward would most likely be pissed at him and the resulting confrontation would create a scene. He was too guilty over his participation in this crime to want an audience.

He took a cab directly from the airport and went straight to Edward's place. There was a small deli near by that Roy was able to get a coffee along with a sweet pastry that he didn't feel up to eating. He went back to Edward's building and looked up at the façade. His mind was racing and still all at once. Walking backwards, Roy leaned up against the dark door of the building opposite. Only half interested, he looked into the big shop window and saw a multitude of different shaped bottles and other high end things aimed at the Parisian woman.

His watch said it was now eleven-fifteen. Roy's case rested on the paving stones at his feet with the pastry on top of that. The coffee was going cold in his hand as he looked up at the building trying to pull his thoughts into some sort of order. The plane ride had been wrought with memories of all Edward had said or done over the past week and now… He almost wished he was back on the plane. At least there it wasn't real yet. He was still a CEO and Edward was on his way here, to Paris. The reality though was that he had chased after Edward like…like some…love sick _puppy!_ Order to his thoughts? Yeah, right…it couldn't happen until he'd get to talk to Edward again. And even then, there was no reason why Edward would consent to exchanging even a few words with him.

At least there was no way for Edward to pass him by. He had full view of the front door and as far as he figured, there was no back door worth considering. He planned on staying in the shadow of the shop's door until he saw that familiar golden head and small frame come into view.

Full of self doubt, Roy pressed his lips, searching the virtually empty street desperately for a small blond man, but there was nothing. With a sigh, Roy took a large drink of his coffee. It hit his empty stomach and turned woozily. He was not cut out for this kind of thing. He was so out of his element that he was _physically_ uncomfortable. How did people handle this torment? It was all Edward's fault, doing this to him; reducing him to this.

But…

Roy sighed again, looking up at the building façade…hoping…

* * *

Edward groaned. He had to piss something awful and he couldn't currently get up out of his seat because the plane was on approach. His knee bounced rapidly, hoping—praying—that the plane would hurry the fuck up and land already! What was the fucking hold up? The lap belt, pulled tight because he didn't want to fly out of his seat if the plane were to crash, pressed against his bladder in such a way that he couldn't possibly think about anything else. He needed to _piss!_

The wheels screeched along the pavement and the engines howled, slowing the plane. It took _ages_ to get to the gate and then finally they were letting the first class passengers disembark. Edward bolted for the nearest bathroom and pissed about a liter worth of alcohol down the urinal. Swaying unsteadily, he zipped up his fly and made a mess trying to wash his hands, splashing water all over the sink, mirror and himself. He had to grab for the paper towel four times before his hand finally got hold of it. Weaving down the hall and squinting up at the signs, he made his way through customs and out to the baggage claim.

There were hordes of people waiting, going up on their tip toes and looking at the people coming out. Edward's vision was too blurry to make out individual faces so he weaved through the crowd towards the turnstile. He flopped down gracelessly into a hard plastic chair and leaned forward, holding his head in his hands. The walk from the gate to here had set his head spinning wildly.

"Why did I drink so much?" mumbled Edward, groaning in misery.

"I'd like to know that as well."

Edward lifted his head slowly and looked up at a wide chest. Blinking, he leaned backwards until his shoulders touched the back of the chair and blearily regarded the man standing before him. "Hey… You're Russell?"

"Jesus! You're piss-drunk! What were you thinking?" Russell fell into the seat next to Edward and twisted around so he could face him. Edward's head felt like it was on an over-stretched spring, weaving and bobbing around as he attempted to focus.

"Thinkin'? I wasn't thinkin'! I was trying to forget…"

"Forget—?"

"Yeah… I was tryin'…but not so good. Am I dumb?"

"Huh?"

Edward slid across his seat in a boneless maneuver until he was perched on the edge of the chair. "Am I dumb?" he asked impatiently.

"Whaaat?" Russell shook his head. "You need coffee—lots of it. I'm not going to have you puke all over Fletcher's car when he was nice enough to lend it to me. Come on."

With some prodding on Russell's part, Edward was coaxed to his feet. Russell picked his case off the turnstile and then ushered him to a small airport deli where he ordered the strongest, largest coffee they had and started making Edward drink it. Half way through his second cup and his fourth bathroom trip, Russell deemed him ready and sober enough to head out. It wasn't until they were seated in the car and pulling out of the parking lot that Russell finally asked: "So, wanna tell me what demon possessed you to drink while flying thirty thousand feet in the air?"

Edward sighed, his head resting on the passenger side window. His gaze was focused on the road watching the painted lines wiz pass. He was silent for a long time, but Russell was patient, not prodding him to speak. He hadn't given much thought to his cover story while in the air and now he didn't think he could be convincing enough to lie while still mostly drunk.

"I met Winry again…" said Edward, closing his eyes.

"Oh, yeah?" Russell sounded curious.

"She liked me." Russell hummed. He knew Russell's thoughts on this. And if he were so inclined to give him another chance, he'd take it. Russell still liked him a lot. "The Mustang's were having one of their parties. We danced…"

"I'm jealous. I couldn't ever get you to dance with me like that."

"Heh." The words were on the tip of his tongue, poised to continue the story, but they got stuck on the roof of his mouth. Self pitying tears pricked at his eyes. He wished that… Russell softly prompted him for more and after swallowing thickly twice, he began again. "Winry broke her ankle and was taken to the hospital. I went to the solarium where Roy found me—that's Roy Mustang," Edward supplied at Russell's querying grunt.

"Ah."

"He danced with me too—it was strange and surreal, but I was too shocked to do anything but go along with it; he kissed me, too." Edward looked across the car at Russell to see him widen his eyes at the road, shoot a quick glance at him and press his lips. "What?"

"Well, how come he'd do that? Didn't you tell me he used to chase you all around? Why's he suddenly being all friendly?"

Edward grunted, agreeing with Russell's initial reaction which had pretty much mirrored his own at the time. But even so, he had been drawn to Roy even if he didn't recognize it then and there. "My flight got cancelled after all, you know. I was in a panic and Roy—he pretty much _forced_ me to accept his offer of flying on the company jet."

"Really…? Hm…"

"So off I go with a man I've barely talked to my whole life and now I have to make conversation and be around him because he's offered me this free trip. It turned out that my plans fell through in L.A. too. I didn't get a hotel room and Roy being Roy took it upon himself to assume that I would stay with him only it wasn't what I expected. There was only one bedroom and we ended up sharing the bed. He teased me a lot, but he seemed nice enough once we talked a bit. I don't know, it was weird but not, too."

"I can imagine. Your tormentor suddenly turns out to be a nice guy, who knew!" Russell laughed at this thought. "But that didn't really answer my question."

"No shit, Sherlock," grumped Edward, resting his head against the window again. Russell grunted in annoyance. "The tournament was stressful, but having Roy there made it less so; Scar was being a bitch and he antagonized both of us, even assaulting me somewhat. Then I argued with Roy in the middle of everyone and said some things that I had maybe always wanted to say, but they were rude. It was so fucked up! Scar got me in a choke hold and I tapped out, losing the match."

He fell silent now. He was to the part of the story where he and Roy had made out and he didn't know how to tell that to Russell—who still wanted more from him than he could give. Russell deserved it, but it was more then he was capable of.

"So where did you place?"

"Oh—I got silver."

"That's great, Edward! I can't believe you fought Scar for the gold and came back whole! That's amazing. Oh, I wish I could have seen that fight."

Smiling, Edward looked at his friend, a wave of fondness engulfing him. Russell was his best friend but they weren't together anymore and hadn't been for a long time. He wasn't going to get back together with Russell so if the news of him being with another man was too much for Russell to deal with, at least he'd know not to talk about it in the future.

"It would have been nice to have you there, but I know you had other commitments. So anyway…I went with Roy back to the hotel where I sulked and then I got mad at Roy again over something stupid. We…ah…"

"You slept with him?" asked Russell quietly when Edward fell silent for long moments.

"No…but close…" Edward didn't want to elaborate any further than that and Russell seemed to get the gist of what happened. "We flew back the next day, but he was distant on the plane. We didn't talk until later." He didn't mention his unease with being seen in public with Roy being close to him. He didn't care about who saw him in Paris, but it was a big deal in America. "Winry met us on the porch when we got home and she was still all for fooling around but somehow I wasn't so keen anymore for her. But that was all to plan—"

"To plan?"

"Yeah," said Edward. "It was all a scam. Roy didn't like me one bit! He was just playing with me to make sure I didn't want Winry and would go with him when the time came. Then he planned on leaving me here while he went back to New York, all the happier because he'd be successful in getting rid of me. He was even going to pay me off, the fucker."

"What the _hell_!"

"Yeah… messed up, right?" said Edward bitterly.

"God, what a cluster fuck that is. How are you doing? You…you really liked him, didn't you?" asked Russell, softly because he most likely now sensed the depth of Edward's feelings.

"Doesn't matter; I got played," he said, dismissing his feelings and the situation all in one sentence. Edward planted his elbow on the door, resting his hand on the glass and his cheek in his palm.

"What a _jerk_! Did you at least punch him or something—taught him a good lesson, right? Man, if I were you, I'd kick him in the balls, I think."

Edward nodded, not rising to the bait. He didn't feel like smiling or bashing Roy's horrible character. He just wanted to sulk. He sighed loudly, blowing the air up and into his bangs. The pressure of his hand against the window twinged his bruised knuckles, reminding him of what he _had_ done in lieu of punching Roy directly.

There was a lot that he'd left out of his explanation. Things like how great Roy smelled or how Roy's confession of concern for him ever since he'd come to live near to the Mustangs or even that Roy instinctively knew how to touch him so that he knew nothing but his touch; these didn't improve the facts any. They only served to remind Edward of how he'd been used and his warm feelings towards Roy had been trampled on.

"Was that why you were drinking on the plane?" asked Russell pulling out of traffic and making his way to Edward's neighborhood.

"Yeah… I know it was stupid. I just wanted to deal with it—or not, as the case may be. I also came out to da while I was home."

"Oh, yeah? Not good?" asked Russell with trepidation.

"Nope. At first he said he was disappointed with me and that hurt like hell, but after a while we got to the point that while he didn't understand much about it, he wasn't going to turn me lose."

"Well, that's good at least. My parents, as you well know, can't stand me. I still have hope that one day they'll come to their senses and realize that life without me isn't all that it's cracked up to be." Russell laughed lightly making Edward smile in response.

"I understand it a lot better now. I never could wrap my head around a parent not wanting to be around their child. But…I understand now."

"So what are you going to do now? Coming back to work with me and Fletcher?"

"Maybe. I had planned on looking into studying abroad while I was home, so I guess I'll just do that from here rather then from home.

"Good, then I'll get to monopolize you and horde all your free time to myself."

Edward laughed again. "Well, don't blame me if I'm not the best company for a while," Edward warned. Russell grinned widely at him.

"Okay, I just need to find a bloody parking spot and then get you settled in your apartment. I hardly had a chance to check on it. Actually, I was going to look round there this weekend. Just as well, though, that I didn't. I'm sure you had left a frightful mess for me to contend with out of spite."

"Fuck you," growled Edward playfully. Russell laughed. He swung the car down an adjacent street and parked the car only two blocks away from his apartment. Once the car was stopped, Edward got out thinking he was now quite sober, but upon standing, promptly got the spins and bonelessly crumpled to the sidewalk.

"Fuck," mumbled Edward, unharmed. He put a shaky hand to his temple and sat on his ass.

"Jesus, Edward, are you okay?" Russell hurried around the car to kneel in front of him.

"Not as sober as I thought," replied Edward. Shaking his head, Russell gripped his arm and pulled him to his feet, letting him rest against the passenger door. His luggage was retrieved from the trunk, which Russell took in one hand and with the other, he wrapped around Edward's waist tucking him in close to his body.

"Right, let's get going," said Russell, leading the way down the street.

* * *

Roy waited.

And it was hard to wait. Thinking that Edward had passed him somehow, he had rung the buzzer to Edward's apartment for long minutes until an angry French woman started shouting at him. He backed off and stood in the doorway of the building on the opposite side of the street and continued to wait.

After two hours he was equal parts frustrated, hungry, sick, humiliated, worried, antsy—desperate! What had happened to Edward? Did he get in an accident? Could he have gone somewhere else? Did he dare call New York and ask Hohenheim for even _more_ help? No, he most certainly couldn't ask Hohenheim for help. This was his trial and his alone. But this _paralyzing_ indecision was crippling him. He always got his way and he always knew what to do. Damn Edward for bringing him low, and…damn him for wanting it.

It was obscenely getting late. He was half mad with worry and hunger and he needed to try and get some rest at some point. If he couldn't meet Edward before he got home tonight, then he'd come back tomorrow and the next day, and the next day for however long it took to get Edward to talk to him. He was very disappointed that he had lost this first chance. But he was sure that he _would _have his chance. He'd damn well better have a chance. He'd put all his resources into winning Edward…because he was worth all of it.

He glanced at his watch in worried agitation. Surely it didn't take him this long to get here from the airport. He had made reasonably good time arriving at Edward's place, he had thought. Did Edward go somewhere else before heading home? Maybe his flight had gotten held up on the tarmac? The flight was listed as on-time when he left the airport… The clamor of late night Paris was all around him, but distant from this immediate section of town.

He began to wonder if he would be able to tell Edward all that was in his heart. Once that thought was bouncing around his mind, he wondered what it was that he did feel for Edward and had begun to analyze himself critically. He was certainly more reactionary, especially when around Edward. He typically had exerted tight control over his emotions, but ever since Edward had come (back?) into his life…it was like his control vanished. Edward was so engaging that he couldn't help but be engaged back. And God, Edward tasted so fine. He wanted to kiss and plunder and rule Edward's mouth until he knew that there was no one but Roy.

Edward was also very surprising. Always pulling the rug out from under his feet and doing things that were unplanned. At first Roy had hated this aspect of Edward's character, but as they spent more time together, Roy had come to expect it, even anticipate it. Almost as if he was _waiting_ for Edward to do or suggest something unthought-of. He had been annoyed at first that his plans were tossed aside so easily, but looking back, he found that he hadn't really cared about it at all. He even liked to see Edward take the lead. It was refreshing to see that such a shy youth could become such a vibrant man.

God, Edward was _vibrant_!

Roy paced the small space in front of the shop's door alternately kicking the painted wooden base boards before he turned and took the two steps to the other side. Nervous energy made him want to do _something_ but he was stuck here.

A small car rumbled down the street. Roy looked inside curiously; hoping. But the car neither slowed nor stopped. Feeling drained and disappointed, he resumed his pacing. Every sound, every voice made Roy's heart jump and race, and so far every time it had been a false alarm. The wind carried the faint sound of voices to him. Almost disinterestedly, Roy shot them a quick glance and then ignored them. They were too far away to see clearly, other then they were close to one another and the light was too poor to see much beyond that. A few moments later, he could make out half of the conversation as they neared slowly.

"…Me a favor, okay? Make sure you don't drink this much—ever!"

The mumbled answer was lost to Roy. He greedily listened further; he needed the distraction.

"Don't you dare get sick, I'm the one carrying you, you know. Oh yeah? Nice. See if I ever take pity on your drunk ass again."

Roy had eyes only for his feet as he paced. His momentary distraction wasn't holding his interest like he hoped. He didn't want to watch a man and a woman while they were close to one another. He wanted Edward. Watching another couple be friendly would just remind him of what he didn't have at the moment.

"Man, don't be like that," whined the other person. Roy froze. That voice sounded very, _very_ familiar. And nothing like the female's voice he had assumed initially. The response was lost to a murmur and Roy had yet to turn around. His heart beat a quick rhythm against his ribs. It was too soon, he hadn't thought up what he was going to say! No, he was fine… All he had to do was get Edward to talk to him by any means necessary.

"Hey, Edward?"

The way the other man said Edward's name made fear mix with heady quickness along his spine. It was too intimate, too familiar. Roy turned and watched from the dark doorway as the taller man pulled them to a stop a few feet away from his position, close to Edward's door. Edward was released and he turned to look at his companion giving Roy his back. The stranger reached out and cupped Edward's cheek in his large hand, and Roy frowned. "I would like it if we could…maybe have another go…?"

Moving quickly, Roy took long strides towards the two. As the tall man was leaning forward Roy grabbed Edward's arm and yanked him out of the other's clutches before those lips could touch. With his other hand, he shoved against the interloper's chest. "Edward!" cried Roy, pulling the smaller man in close. Edward blinked in surprise, his mouth opening in shock, looking up into Roy's face.

"Roy?"

--To Be Continued—

This chapter fought me mightily! I had to get it _right_ and it was mostly Roy who didn't know what he wanted to do, and so, neither did I. But I got him under control in the end. Still not 100% in _love_ with this chapter, but I can't decide what's _wrong_ with it either.

And I'm another year older. I will accept reviews in lieu of presents or monetary gifts…on the other hand, if you really _want_ to give monetary gifts…let's talk ;D


	29. Chapter 28

Disclaimer: I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

Betad by Yaoi_Girl69 :D

Been reading a lot of classic/modern literature lately (Virginia Woolfe, Ray Bradbury, Kingsly Amis, Mordecai Richler, Jane Austin) and noted an interesting fact about punctuation. Punctuation is as much an art as the writing itself. It is not merely technical (though there is a technically to it) but it is a tool to add importance and feeling to the story. Thus, I have tried to implement this 'new' revelation in my chapter.

**Chapter 28**

Roy glanced down into Edward's eyes and became momentarily mesmerized by their golden color. Could he have forgotten how rich they shone already? Or had he undervalued the way that they constantly shifted color? And they became livelier as the brows lowered and the light from the street glinted in a dangerously exciting way. Roy smiled in delight. That he had almost given this up was now unimaginable. He would never get enough. He enjoyed just watching Edward; seeing him smile.

"What the fucking hell—what are you doing here?" demanded Edward, yanking his arm out of Roy's hold.

A shiver of fear raced up Roy's spine to see that his joy was not mirrored in Edward's response to his presence. His smile faded in the face of Edward's fury. He held his ground however when Edward took an aggressive step towards him looking truly dangerous.

"I asked you a fuckin' question, Mustang! What the hell are you doing here? You have no right!" Edward's voice rose with each demanding question.

"And who the hell pushes strangers around?" asked the other man stepping forward and crowding Roy.

Glaring at the interloper, Roy addressed Edward never taking his eyes off the taller, border man. "I don't want to do this in front of your 'friend'. Is there somewhere we can talk about this?" asked Roy, finally breaking off the glare to look back down at Edward's angry face. He made sure to put as much disdain as he could on the word friend so that the stranger was in little doubt that he wasn't happy to have him here.

"What for, huh? What could you say that you didn't already make perfectly clear in your lobby? Huh! Tell me; I'm dying to know what's so fucking important that you followed me all the way here."

"What's so important? Edward…" Roy reached for his arm. "Please…" Edward's frown deepened, looking more confused and wary now then angry. He could feel the tension in Edward's arm as he held his bicep. He wished he had more of a stronger build. The other man was almost as tall as him, but he had much more muscle. Between the two of them, they could do as much damage as they wanted to Roy and mostly likely not even break a sweat. Winry's crass comment about letting Edward hit him in repayment seemed now strangely relevant.

"After what you did to Edward; I don't think so, jackass! You should just go home and leave him alone or else I'll have to teach you what it means to hurt my loved ones!"

"Loved ones?" Roy looked between Edward and the stranger. The taller man was standing close to Edward's shoulder, glaring at him and Edward looked perfectly at ease with the closeness. "Edward, no… That can't be true, you belong to me. Please, can't we go somewhere to talk?" He wanted to drag Edward away from the other person, but didn't want to escalate this into a tug-of-war.

"Don't touch him," growled the stranger, cutting a hand down across Roy's forearm and drawing Edward away from him. He felt the separation physically right down to his gut. "Com'on Edward, leave this bastard alone. You need to lie down."

"Look, whoever you are, I got nothing to say to you, so why don't you just run along; Edward and I have a lot to talk about." Roy rubbed a hand along his bruised forearm, wanting to lash back but feeling impotent to do anything.

"You got some fucking nerve coming here and bossing _me_ around, you worthless piece of dog shit!" The man strode forward and shoved Roy violently.

"I could ruin you if I decided to take notice of someone like you," growled Roy, stumbling back under the strong push. Adrenaline was coursing through his blood, making him shake but not back down.

"'Someone like me'? Someone like me, he says. And what the fuck does something like that mean? Are you threatening me—"

"Oh, don't even think about it. You shoved me first, that's assault. I could ruin you."

"As if, you were the one who put his hands on _me_ first—"

"Alright; enough!"

Edward's shout brought them both up short. Turning away from the man he was auguring with, Roy found Edward standing with his feet planted, his fists balled, and a deep angry flush across his cheeks glaring from him to the other man and back.

"I've had it with both you; I'm done!" Reaching out, Edward took his suitcase from the other man and made for the door.

"Oh—wait, Edward—"

"Shut up, Russell!" snapped Edward, shooting a dirty glare over his shoulder.

Roy didn't take heed of the dangerous tone in Edward's voice, and where the other man—Russell; that was Russell?—backed down, he moved forward and gripped Edward's shoulders with both of his hands. He desperately wanted to draw the man back against his body, but Edward was rigid and tense in his hold.

"Please, Edward, I really need to talk to you. I have been blind to everything and I just need to _talk_ to you, please."

"What do you want from me, Mustang? I didn't take your fucking money, so there's nothing for you now. You got your precious merger all looked after; let go…"

"I didn't understand before; please, can't we go somewhere and talk?"

"I'm not going anywhere with you," said Edward, turning in Roy's hold and taking a step back. "But this should be a real trip; so go on, tell me oh great Mustang, why you came all the way here just to 'talk', hm?" The condescending tone in Edward's voice rankled Roy's straining temper. He struggled not to match the tone in Edward's voice and stay calm, but the longer this went on, the more Roy found that he was reacting to it.

"I came here, Edward," began Roy, slowly, trying to keep his voice neutral. If he had to do this on the street in front of Edward's friend, then so be it. "In order to talk to you; to say that I'm a bastard and a fool; I'm blind and it took you leaving like that for me to realize just how much I…"

"You what?" snapped Edward, crossing his arms across his chest.

Roy swallowed and took a deep breath. He looked into those fascinating golden eyes that were flashing so and felt his heart clench. "That I…" mumbled Roy, transfixed. "That I—I'm in love with you…"

Edward gasped and took another step back as though he'd been hit. Worriedly, Roy sucked in his bottom lip and held it between his teeth. Saying it aloud made it sound absurd and foolish. Oh, what was he doing here? Suddenly, he was pushed aside and Russell was glaring at him with venom.

"What a cheap trick!" said Russell, looking Roy up and down with disdain.

A deep flush spread over Roy's face. "It's no trick, I guarantee it! Ever since I last saw you, Edward, I was confused by my feelings. You infuriate me with your ability to upset my plans and you are constantly changing my rules. You wormed your way into my life and, yes, even my heart and now I'm begging, _begging_ you Edward, for a second chance to show you; yes I'm a fool, but I want to be with you. I want to love you and have you love me back, and I want to do mundane things with you. I especially want to watch you do more martial arts because you are grace incarnate when you move and I could watch you do that forever and never get bored. I even started to set up an inner city program to teach kids martial arts after seeing the tournament; and I want to run my hands through your hair while it smells like my shampoo and I want to spoil you, rub your back when you're sore… I want to take care of you and I want… I want it all, and all I'm asking is…for a chance…a chance…so that… "

Roy's speech stumbled to a halt. Confessing his feelings had liberated his embarrassment over his admission of love and allowed them to be validated. His face still felt warm from Russell's comment and a great wave of tiredness spread through his body in a slow crawl that made him feel like he'd not slept in several days. Both Edward and Russell were giving him strange looks and he was on the verge of calling it a day for now.

This was going nowhere and he wanted to lie down for a while and just not think. It felt like he'd been thinking about Edward forever and he just wanted to take a _break_. In the course of five minutes, he had humiliated himself so completely and shamelessly that he doubted he had an ounce of pride left to even worry about it. Edward was looking at him incredulously and he was sure that he deserved that too. After all the mind games he had used on Edward it was no wonder he doubted him now.

Roy sighed. "Look, I know that you don't believe me but I'm not going anywhere. If you won't talk to me tonight, I'll leave…for now. Please think about what I said and I'll see you tomorrow." Roy turned to Russell and nodded solemnly at him. "I apologize for being rough with you."

His only answer was a narrowing of blue eyes. Roy could read the hatred there but the feeling of dislike ran both ways. He happened to hate the thought that this man had touched Edward first. Taking a step back, then another, Roy turned and retrieved his case from the dark store front. He looked once more at Edward and saw that Russell, that annoying little weasel, had cozyed up to him again with an arm resting over top of his shoulders in an easy friendliness but Roy saw that he was only doing that to annoy him. His mind growled possessively at the sight.

Gritting his teeth hard, Roy strained under those territorial feelings, pushing them back and didn't try to force them apart like he wanted to. His gaze landed on Edward and stayed there. There was still a high flush sweeping over Edward's cheeks and his eyes were bright with emotions. It was then that Roy noticed that Edward was swaying unsteadily and his eyes were slightly dazed looking and he connected Russell's comment about lying down with the fact that Edward was showing all the signs of being drunk or was recovering from that state. He wanted to inquire why he had drunk so much, but his welcome was worn out. Roy suspected that he was somehow the cause of Edward's current state but he had to leave now. With a slight nod at Edward, Roy turned and began to walk slowly down the street. He'd get a taxi at a busier intersection and find a hotel somewhere close and he'd be back first thing tomorrow.

* * *

Shocked would be the appropriate term for what Edward felt at this moment—this totally fucking surreal moment! His anger at seeing Roy so suddenly had been completely opposite to the fierce joy that twisted his gut, but anger won and he had lashed out. Now he was watching Roy walk away with only some half-assed promise to see him tomorrow. But he didn't want to wait for tomorrow. He wanted to have Roy back _now_ but he couldn't trust a single word that came out of Roy's mouth because he'd done that already and it had been a very hard lesson…but he wanted Roy to touch him again… His shoulders felt tingly and warm from where those hands had held him. Uncertainty kept his feet glued to the sidewalk and Russell's presence seemed like an anchor.

"What a fucking jerk," bitched Russell peevishly. "I can't believe that's the guy who did that to you. What's he playing at coming here like this?" Edward didn't answer. Roy was getting further away by the moment and he rocked on the balls of his feet, half about to run after Roy, half debating to stay.

"Don't know," mumbled Edward.

"Hey, sorry for jumping in like that, but he was pissing me off, you know?"

Edward nodded; tearing his eyes from Roy's diminishing back and sighing. The ground had opened up beneath him and was falling away so that there was nothing for him to stand on and no one for him to turn to. He was of two minds about the whole Roy issue—and what he'd said about him! Was that true? Was it another trick? He had to get into his apartment and think this over. He needed to think!

"Thanks for the ride, Russell," said Edward woodenly, taking his case into his hand and turning towards the door of his apartment building. He slipped out from under the arm around his shoulders.

"Ah—wait!" called Russell. Edward turned back, looking at him questioningly. "Aren't I coming up?" he asked uncertainly.

"I don't think so," reply Edward. He turned back to the door.

"Wait!"

"Yes?" Edward looked once more at Russell.

"Well… About that guy; are you going to tell him to leave you alone when he comes back tomorrow? Do you want me to stay just incase he gets outta hand?"

Without even considering it, Edward answered no, leaving Russell in little doubt that he was free to leave now. There were a few more attempts to get him to talk, to stall in case Edward might change his mind and invite Russell up. But when it became clear that the invitation wasn't coming, Russell then promised to come by in the morning 'just in case that bastard shows up again'. Not that Edward thought he'd need Russell because he was sure he could take care of himself and Roy didn't know anything about fighting. Nothing Russell said could dissuade him though, so he just let it go. He needed—wanted—to get into his apartment and just absorb what had taken place and figure out what to make of it all.

He'd only left just two weeks ago and his place was already stuffy from being shut up for so long. Dropping his luggage on the couch, Edward went about his apartment opening all the windows to let in the warm, night spring air.

_I'm begging, __**begging**__ you Edward, for a second chance…_

Edward flopped back onto his sofa and threw his arms out along the back. His case fell into his thigh but he paid it no mind. That tie Roy was wearing… It was the same one he had been wearing the last time he'd seen him…he was sure of it.

_I was confused by my feelings. _

Toeing off his shoes, Edward kicked them towards the general direction of the door, listening dispassionately as they crashed against the coat closet and the front door. With a sigh, he lifted his feet and slammed them down on the coffee table.

_You are grace incarnate when you move and I could watch you do that forever and never get bored._

A pleased warmth spread over Edward's face. So, Roy liked to watch him, eh? He wouldn't mind showing off for Roy as often as he could. No, no! He can't let him in that easy—oh, fuck, he was already in, and Edward was ready to forgive him. He couldn't be that easy. He needed to make Roy suffer for his underhanded actions.

_I want to take care of you and I want… I want it all, and all I'm asking is…for a chance…a chance…so that… _

Boy, Roy had looked rough. The dark stubble-shadow along his jaw and the mussed up hair; his clothes were rumbled and no longer showed him as a neat and put-together business man that Edward was the most familiar with. Had he done that? Edward smiled at the ceiling. He had broken through Roy's armor and brought him low, made him beg. He was happy that he had done that. It must mean that Roy was telling the truth…right?

_That I—I'm in love with you…_

Dare he even believe that Roy had meant that? Could anyone look as wreaked as that, and fake those feelings, that emotion in his voice if it weren't true? Oh, God…if it was true… Edward sprang to his feet and began to pace from the window to his kitchen. So what if it was true! Roy had hurt him—bad! He had twisted his feelings into a knot and used that to his financial advantage. How could he in good conscience let Roy have his way _again_, as always, and forgive him just like that? He was mad to even consider it. What he _should_ do was foil Roy's plans so that he didn't get his way. This could be his chance to make Roy see what an ass he's been all his life. Yeah, that sounded like a great idea. That would really show him!

Yeah, when Roy came back tomorrow (if he was even telling the truth about coming back tomorrow) he'd make it so that Roy wouldn't get his way and he wouldn't do what Roy wanted. Nope, no way, no how was he going to let Roy get the chance he wanted. He would show him, that's for sure.

* * *

Roy opened his eyes slowly. The dim light showing between his poorly closed curtains told him that it was still too early to think about being awake. But seeing as he hadn't even fallen asleep so far, he might as well think about getting up and getting ready. Though his body was tired and his mind was tired, even still he forced himself up out of bed and into the bathroom.

He stood in front of the mirror, looking at his worn, tried face. His fitful rest showed in around his eyes, making him look haggard and dreary. Placing his hands on the counter top, Roy leaned towards the mirror and studied his face.

"Not going to win anyone with this kind of face, Roy," he mumbled to his refection. Rubbing a hand over his face, his palm rasping over his stubble and up into his hair did little to wake him or make him feel more alert. He began to rummage through his shaving bag, pulling forth his razor and shaving cream and got to work on making himself at least appear presentable.

The razor scraped down his cheek, the sound of it somehow soothing and grating at the same time. Roy wondered if Edward needed to shave very often. He didn't really recall if Edward had done so while they shared the hotel room, but neither did he watch what Edward did every moment while they were together. But Edward with facial hair might be really sexy. Judging by how well Edward's father, Hohenheim, had aged and how well his beard looked on his driver, he could imagine Edward looking even better and more youthful even with facial hair.

"Ah, fuck!" cursed Roy, hissing at his reflection and the small nick he'd inflicted on himself. He titled his head to the side and pressed a finger against the cut just under his chin. Not only had he swore, something he rarely if ever did, he had cut himself because of his inattention. Edward was distracting him again and he wasn't even here. Lifting his finger off the wound only allowed it to seep more blood, so he replaced the finger and pressed.

Roy sighed. He hoped that he could get Edward to talk to him today. Part of his unease last night as he tried—and failed—to fall asleep was wondering if Edward would consent see him today. He hoped that a night apart to rest would set them both in a better state of mind to meet and talk. As well as he was could read body language and read Edward, he couldn't tell how his confession affected its intended audience. Perhaps he was too close to read Edward like he had, and almost; he was glad if that was the case. It was by reading Edward so well that he'd gotten here in the first place. Maybe going at it blind was the best thing for him now.

He checked the small wound and saw that it had stopped bleeding, so he resumed his shaving. Once he finished up, he quickly rinsed his face and striped out of his sleep pants in preparation for the shower. He could only say again what was in his heart if—when—he got to talk to Edward. After that, it was up to Edward to decide if they were to move forward together or…not…and Roy didn't like to think about that option if he could help it.

* * *

The sun was warm and the wind soft. The people of Paris moved quickly to their tasks, but also they didn't. Roy sat at a small open air café and sipped his rich, bitter coffee and wondered over this aspect of the Parisian nature, that they hurried and yet didn't at the same time. They looked perfectly relaxed as they walked but they rushed. This was a fascinating subject to puzzle over as he sipped at his drink and picked at his croissant. New Yorkers just hurried and hurried, but Persians looked relaxed too. There was none of the usual grouchiness that he was used to hearing on the streets back home. It was rather nice to see people enjoying the morning.

Roy had stopped for his breakfast near to Edward's apartment for its convenience only. But he wondered if this might be some place that Edward frequented often. Perhaps he had sat at this very table, writing in his journal that he mentioned. It was only seven-thirty but there were a lot of people moving about on the street. The metro entrance just around the corner was busy. He watched idly, feeling misplaced.

Sipping at the rich drink, Roy glanced around at the people. In a way, they were no different from the people in New York. And everywhere he looked, he saw beautiful men and women, dressed in a seemingly effortless good fashion. Spring was in full tilt here, whereas spring back home was still just coming into being. Flowers bloomed in profusion and the air was rich with baking, coffee, and the scent of flowers; the sounds of the busy city and the chirping birds added to the sense of life returning. Edward had done well in choosing to come here. He could see how one could learn how to become more outgoing in an environment like this one. He could also see that _he_ could learn how to slow down and relax here. Maybe…if Edward decided he didn't want anything to do with him, Roy would stay and take a long, well deserved vacation. It wasn't like he had to rush back to the office now that Winry had control of the company.

Roy continued to search the crowds, but it wasn't until he spotted a blond—a woman—that he realized who he was searching for. He had been unconsciously searching for Edward all this time, without even realizing it. Oh, he had it _bad_. Being a business man for so long, he couldn't help but plan for every eventuality. Or, he should say, every eventuality that _he_ could think of. He was sure Edward, when they finally met again would throw all this plans into chaos. Anyway, he could only make plans for himself and take the rest as it came. Edward was teaching him that and he wasn't even here to gloat at him.

He hoped at least Edward would hear him out and let him say his piece. If that didn't happen, he'd have to gage how angry Edward was to determine if he should avoid him for a while so he could cool down, or if he should try and win him over—date him, for lack of a better word, but he almost thought of them as being beyond dating… But he mustn't get ahead of himself. He hadn't even talked to Edward yet and he was making assumptions. He must limit himself to only facts and projected reactions.

First thing he wanted to do upon seeing Edward again (aside from kissing him senseless) was to apologize again for his horrid behavior and treatment. After that, Edward's reactions would play a major role in what happened next. If Edward allowed him to talk further, he planned on telling him just how much he had changed since that night in the solarium and was still changing. If he could just love him and let him be with Edward, he was sure that he could be a man worthy of Edward. But if Edward shut him down and denied him the chance to talk, he'd even go so far as getting down on his knees and begging. No humiliation was too little for the chance at forgiveness.

Taking his eyes from the passing people, Roy glanced at his wrist watch and was shocked to learn that it was now eight-thirty.

* * *

"It's eight-thirty," said Russell in answer to Edward's question.

Edward nodded absently, not wholly paying much attention to the answer, or the surroundings. He had pulled his armchair up to the window so he could look out at the city (to watch the street and the door). Russell had showed up as promised bright and early at seven this morning. Looking fresh and anxious, he came in with a bag of freshly baked _pan de chocolat_ with rich, melted, dark chocolate in the middle that threatened to spill with every bite and while he picked at his pastry Russell inhaled his.

Maybe he'd go out for one of his walks. He should get a new notebook and write down every silly, sad thought he had. Perhaps he was making too much out this situation. Not much had actually happened to him—_really?_ Only his feelings were slightly bruised. No actual investment in time or giving of his body had taken place. They—him and Roy—had been on the very cusp of a relationship or whatever it may have been…but they hadn't crossed that line, so…what was there to be upset about? He didn't take the money or the apartment, so his pride was intact—mostly. He hadn't slept with Roy, so his body was intact. He hadn't compromised himself in anyway, really. But he still felt as if he'd been wronged on a deeper level beyond what had happened.

It was probably because he wanted more from Roy then what he'd gotten. But now he was being offered exactly that and he didn't know what to do. Should he listen to what Roy had to say? Should he deny him the chance to talk? What should he do? Last night he had decided to go against whatever Roy wanted, but now, today, he didn't know what to do. With the threat of Roy showing up at any time now, he found that he couldn't stick with one decision or the other. One moment he wanted to get out of the house and walk, in the next he wanted to stay glued to his chair, watching at the window just _incase_ Roy showed up.

"You gonna eat that?" asked Russell. Edward looked up at his friend who stood at the arm of his chair looking down at him with pity.

"What am I going to do, Russell? Tell me what I should do?" Edward slumped forward and rested his elbows on the window still with a sigh, watching the street below.

"I think you know what I'd like you to do, Edward. I'd want you to be with me always…" Edward sighed. "But I know you. Though we're good friends, we're not meant for each other like that." Russell sat on the arm and leaned back taking a hold of Edward's shoulders and kneading softly.

"I'm mad at him," Edward stated. Saying it though, made it sound as if he lacked conviction in the truth of that statement. Was he still mad at Roy?

"But even still, you care for him, right?"

"Why do I have to like a jerk?" asked Edward sadly. Russell squeezed his shoulders in response before he began to work on the tense muscles at the base of his neck. "I don't want to wait for him; like I'm some girl. He's got to suffer at least a little bit, right?"

"Okay. Do you want to go for a walk then?" suggested Russell moving to the next tense area and working on releasing Edward's knotted muscles. Edward nodded and pushed back from the still. Russell let go of his shoulders and stood. "Right, well that means you got to put yourself together, don't you?" said Russell, pointing at his pajamas and messy hair.

Edward smiled wanly and stood from his sentry position. He padded towards his bedroom and closed the door behind him. Passing his bed on his way to his bathroom, Edward had to fight the image of what he and Roy could do while in those sheets. He really had to try and hold out for a while at least. It was only fair that he make Roy wait; torture him a bit after all that he'd done to him. A little reverse manipulation was called for, after all.

Edward started the shower, the water sputtering angrily before the pressure evened out. As he washed, his mind returned to their first kiss and the intensity of that moment—it was really their second kiss, because he didn't count the kiss in the solarium as the first. And that intensity didn't fade for their second encounter that night after the tournament. Not wanting to make Russell wait on him for too long, Edward focused on getting clean and not on Roy's…abilities as a kisser.

* * *

The waiter came back to refresh his cup, standing in front of his view of the street. Though he wanted to snap, Roy restrained himself strongly from demanding that the server move aside. Why he felt he needed to watch the people moving to and from the metro, he didn't know. But for the past two minutes he'd been feeling a strong anticipation that had him fidgeting in his chair, which he supposed, had prompted the server to come refresh his cup.

At the first twinges of expectation Roy had initially thought is was due to his routine being disrupted. He wasn't at the office, he wasn't behind his desk, he wasn't playing with billions of dollars… As the seconds passed with agonizing slowness and Roy's attention was more and more intently focused on the street he slowly began to understand that he was—what, waiting; breathless; heart pounding? Why? Did he sub-consciously know something that his mind had yet to see? And what the hell could that be?

With a nod of mute thanks, the waiter wove through the tables and the view was restored. Roy searched uselessly, knowing full well that he was being entirely foolish and ridiculous. Letting his heart run away with him, lead him towards moony daydreams, and what for? Edward wasn't going to appear from between the crowds, stand there until Roy noticed him and smile. That was totally absurd, but his heart beat even faster and the coffee in his stomach felt heavy and acid-like.

What was he doing? Running after a man seven years younger then him—and for what?

His stomach fluttered as an impeccably dressed blond woman walked confidently towards the subway on high heels. Her long strawberry locks fluttering behind her, she accepted the various admiring glances with practiced grace. She was used to being admired. It was the wrong blond he was looking for, but something in the way her hair moved reminded him of Edward moving with that brightly flashing sword.

What would he give to see Edward move like that again? In his mind he pictured living with Edward: going down to the market to get fresh vegetables for that night's dinner; attending plays; taking weekend trips to other parts of Europe; waking up early in the morning of a warm summer day. Roy would have a coffee and some jam slathered toast while Edward would be in loose pants or equally loose shorts—no top to hide that muscled upper body—and moving through liquid-like movements that would make him horny and wanting to touch the sun bronze skin and golden hair. That's the kind of life he hoped Edward would let them have.

Roy snorted at himself and looked into his steaming mug, seeing a vague reflection of the sky and his face. Not even a full twelve hours had passed since he'd last seen Edward and already he was turning into a romantic. Though he had short encounters before, he was never inclined to do more then see his temporary partner out the door. But for Edward, he was making plans—long term plans.

He was quite hopeless…

* * *

"Wanna walk along the Seine? It's going to be a hot day today," said Russell, holding the door to Edward's building open so that he could pass.

Grunting, Edward was looking up and down his street, trying to spy all the hiding spots and see if anyone was lurking in or around them. He didn't want to be surprised like last time. He wanted to know from which direction Roy was going to show up from.

"I don't see him. He's probably still on New York time. I bet you he's still asleep."

"I'm not looking for _him_," said Edward, whirling around to frown up at Russell. Thankfully, he didn't feel his face get hot which would only prove that he had been doing just that.

"Sure you're not," agreed Russell affably which just served to annoy Edward.

"Don't push it. I can just as well leave you here as bring you along; either way, it makes no never mind to me, okay?"

"Sure, sure; I'm sorry." Russell sobered his expression. Edward narrowed his eyes at his friend, knowing that he might not be outwardly laughing at him anymore; he was certainly doing just that in his head. Edward sagged forward and wished to be back in his chair. This was mental torture and he couldn't torture back until he saw Roy again. "Com'on; walk remember?" Russell tugged his arm and they set off on a winding route that as far as Edward could tell had nothing to do with getting to the river and everything to do with wasting time.

The conversation was sparse and hardly worth paying any attention. Edward's mind and thoughts were on other things…on someone else. It was killing him slowly this waiting, this constant looking for someone taller then him with dark hair and darker eyes that had a voice that made him weak. An hour into their walk, Edward turned them back. He wasn't in the mood for this and as much as he didn't want to wait around for Roy to show up, he also didn't want to miss when he came either.

Turning back onto his street, Edward couldn't help but look for Roy, wondering if he was here yet; had he been here and left? Would he come back? Russell had fallen silent at his side two blocks ago as Edward lengthened his stride to hurry back. The full length of his street, Edward didn't see Roy anywhere and as he neared his building, he looked toward the store across from his place finding the entryway empty.

"So, what should I do?" asked Russell. "Do you want me to wait with you? I don't mind, you know."

Edward pressed his lips together in a thin line. "I don't think so. However this turns out, this is between him and I, but thanks for offering," said Edward, giving Russell a smile.

"Okay, call me and let me know how it all goes down."

Edward waved Russell away and turned towards his door. He inserted the key in the inner foyer door and trudged up the stairs. He wondered when—if Roy showed up, what he would say to him and how he'd react. As he gained his floor, Edward looked down the hall and stopped short. There, leaning against the wall near his door, one foot resting against the wall in a casual pose stood Roy, looking down at the worn carpet, in deep thought. The sound of his foot on the step raised Roy's head and their eyes met. Edward stood there looking with Roy doing the same. Sighing, he turned to face him, gathering his resolve.

He walked to his door with those eyes following every step, every move he made; Edward tried not to smile against that scrutiny. He had no call to smile, but the urge was strong. Bowing his head, Edward pulled his keys from his pocket and unlocked the door, a lopsided smile tugging at his lips. In the corner of his eye, he saw Roy turn to face him, silent still.

"How'd you get in?" asked Edward, partially opening the door and pausing to hear the answer.

"The elderly woman that lives just down the hall from here saw me waiting and took pity on me. She doesn't speak English very well though," said Roy, his voice soft and solemn. Edward nodded once. He knew of whom Roy spoke. She was a bit of a busy body, always in his business and pressing homemade jam on him. Harmless enough though.

Edward pushed the door wide, letting it bounce off the wall and looked Roy in the eye. He waited to see what the older man would say now with him about to enter his place. Would he beg to come in? But Roy just watched him quietly, an intent look in his eyes; quietly communicating with him his desires.

Without a word, Edward stepped aside from the door and held out his hand. A small relieved smile spread across Roy's face, easing some of the recent stress that had made his face tired looking. "Thank you," he murmured, moving into Edward's apartment. The smile was tugging at Edward's lips again as he entered behind Roy, closing the door.

--To Be Continued—

There, a quick update like I promised you guys in my replies.

Please review!!


	30. Chapter 29

Disclaimer: I do not own Sabrina nor Fullmetal Alchemist.

A/N: As some of you may have found out (by asking me or by reading my LJ) you know that this chapter caused me so much grief! I have several dozen—SEVERAL DOZEN!—versions of of this chapter, each one making me more frustrated the longer I looked at it. The boys didn't want to do what I felt the readers had earned (namely sex) and the more I fought with them the more they fought back. It got so bad that I became frustrated with the whole fandom and had to give it up to save my sanity because I was well and truly entrenched in my writer's block.

If you are following my LJ you know I've been recently involved in the Star Trek fandom and the Kirk/McCoy pairing since December 2009 (when I finally got past my writer's block!). You don't know how relieving it was to finally find the words again but I never once forgot about this story. I knew I would have to revisit the last chapter someday, but I'd be lying if I said that I was kinda avoiding it.

It was Greedy_lover's kind read through of the following version that convinced me that having an open ended finish was fine and that including a sex scene would not be missed. I would like to thank my first beta Zakai, my second beta, Yaoi_girl69 (now Weredragon) and Greedy_lover for stepping in at the last moment.

Thank you also to my readers and lurkers. I would have loved to hear more from you, but I'm thankful that my story continues to get such high hits, even now.

* * *

**Chapter 29**

Edward's apartment was much smaller then the one Alex had chosen. The long common room contained the kitchen, which was a small galley style to the right of the door, then it was directly into the living room. It was rather crowed with the large couch, armchair, coffee table and a bureau that a small TV was sitting on. Beyond the kitchen he could see a half closed door and just glimpse a messy bed. There wasn't too much going for this small closest sized apartment other then it was where Edward lived.

From across the room, Roy watched Edward move towards the window and look out. He felt tense and nervous standing here and wondered if he should wait until he was invited to speak or if he should start talking. This was another new sensation that Edward was bringing out of him. In the past he wouldn't have wondered over what to do, rather, he would just read the situation effortlessly and worked on making his audience, be it a room full of investors or walking into a hostile company's corporate office and demanding they sell to him, bow to his wishes. But Edward was just standing there and he didn't know if this called for him to take charge, or if he should let Edward do so, thus working in his favor.

He watched Edward's body stretch forward as he planted his hands on the low window still and rock his weight forwards and backwards. Roy enjoyed the sight of him quietly; he could drop his façade and the games and simply enjoy the sight of him. But, he wondered, how long would he have to enjoy this display before Edward took that away from him?

"Why are you really here?" asked Edward, his voice almost lost in the stillness of the room.

Roy shifted his weight anxiously. "What I said last night was true, Edward. I'm here because I'm a fool and I want—I hope—that you can look past my mistake and see that you love me—_could_ love me…and I…well, I want to say that I'm sorry for being an asshole." Looking down at his hands, he noticed that he was worrying the button on his jacket. Embarrassed, Roy quickly let the button go and thrust his hands into his pant pockets.

"And what mistake would that be?" asked Edward, still leaning against the window, his gaze focused on some point outside. Roy looked down at his feet, knowing that ogling Edward might not send the message he wanted at this point in time.

"That would be the one where I was a jerk, as your friend so aptly called me last night, and used your emotions towards me to manipulate you into a situation where I could get rid of you." Roy could feel his business persona starting to take hold of him and fought to push it back. Now was not the time to be cold and unfeeling. He needed to show as much of himself as he could in the hopes that it would help him win Edward over.

"You did do that, didn't you?" murmured Edward.

"Edward…can I come in; can we sit down and talk about this?" Edward looked at him from over his shoulder, shifting his weight back to stare at him. After a moment, Edward stood and crossed his arms.

"Yeah, alright; but you got to leave if I don't want you here anymore. This time, I will punch you…"

Roy immediately glanced at Edward's hand seeing that the bandages were now gone and reminded himself that Edward had easily punched through his wall; there was no telling what would happen to him if he was the intended target. He nodded and toed off his shoes, pulling the heels back until they were neat against the baseboard. He then moved into the living room and sat on the couch beside the arm closest to the door, twisting sideways to look at Edward.

Even this far away, Roy already felt closer to Edward. He wanted to head over to the window to stand next to him, but felt that would be pushing his tenuous welcome to the breaking point. It felt like he was dealing with an unbroken colt, young and unused to human contact. He needed to be cautious, move slow so as to not startle him and let him become used to his presence.

"So talk," demanded Edward cruelly.

"Would you please sit so that we don't have to raise our voices to be heard?" asked Roy motioning to the armchair next to the couch. After a moment of pressing his lips in thought, Edward walked stiffly over to the chair and flopped inelegantly into the worn, faded cushions. "Thank you," murmured Roy.

Before he started, Roy took off his jacket and laid it across his knee, using that time to internally steady himself. "Ah, before I get into why I'm here, may I ask how your hand is doing? I notice the bandages are gone."

Roy watched Edward's jaw work, clenching and unclenching for several long moments. "It's fine," said Edward stiffly. "Don't confuse the issue here," he added quickly. "Talk."

With a nod, Roy cleared his throat. "I must admit, I'm a bit at a loss as to what more I can say. I'm truly remorseful that I've played such a large role in hurting your feelings, but you should know—I'm sure you know—that I've been attracted to you for a long time." Roy blinked at hearing those words come from his mouth and felt as if an unknown answer to an unvoiced question suddenly clicked into place. It was true, though he hadn't even realized it until he'd said it. All those times he had chased after Edward when they were younger, all those times he'd tried to make nice at the Christmas parties...all that time, he had done it because he liked Edward, and he'd been blind to it until this very moment? Normally such a revelation would have shocked him, but now, it just rang true and that was it. He accepted that that was how he felt and continued on.

Edward was watching him keenly. It was quite the struggle for Roy to not erect his normal barriers. He wanted to be as open as he could for Edward while he talked so that he could be scrutinized, but naturally Roy wasn't open and feeling vulnerable like this was hard on him. It didn't help that Edward's intense, critical gaze was putting him on edge.

"So, what are you saying? That you followed me—stalked me as a kid; hiding in the bushes and watching me like that was because you liked me and you didn't know until just now? That sounds like complete bullshit."

Unable to devise an answer to that, Roy dropped his gaze to Edward's foot which was resting on the edge of the coffee table. "Edward, I'm a man that's used to getting his way, you know that. You've even called me on it, if I recall. I don't expect you to bow to my wishes here. I'm just hoping that you'll consider what I say as containing enough truth for you to be comfortable with giving me a second chance. And if you do give me that chance, I promise you that I won't waste a moment of any of the time you allow me to have to show you that I am in love with you."

He looked up then and found Edward's eyes fixed on him. What thoughts were flashing behind those eyes, Roy couldn't tell. He was more interested in watching the color in those eyes shift from light to dark and somewhere in-between. Finally Edward turned aside. Roy felt that some decision was about to be made and struggled to keep his seat. He didn't need to be jumping up off the couch this very moment to press his point. He had to see which way Edward was going to take this before he became desperate.

"How can you be in love with me though?" asked Edward quietly. His thumb found its way to his mouth where he began to chew on the nail. Roy recognized the habit from the tournament and every other time he'd seen Edward nervous or anxious. The appearance of this nervous tick now gave him a glimmer of hope. He supposed it was because Edward might be considering Roy's words as holding some truth. At least he hoped that's what Edward was thinking.

"How could I not?" countered Roy.

A crease formed between Edward's eyebrows. "Don't play with me!" snapped Edward, standing to pace from the kitchen to the window. "I can't stand it when you play with people! I hate it!"

Roy turned so that he could watch Edward move, awed once more at the grace he exuded even while agitated. "I am quite honest here. I am not playing with you."

"Bullshit," hissed Edward, giving him an angry glare as he stalked his way towards the kitchen. "That's what you do, after all; that's what you did to me!"

"That was a mistake," said Roy. He struggled to keep his voice level and not match the growing volume in Edward's voice.

"So you come here and just expect to get your way? That's real nice," said Edward snidely. "What if I didn't want to? What would you do to make me, huh? Try and buy me again? Buy my friends for me, too? What else will you buy to make me like you?" shouted Edward as he stalked by the couch, throwing his arms up into the air.

Roy's gossamer hold on his temper tore in answer to Edward's flaring fury. He shot up from his seat and glared across the back of the couch. In response, Edward stopped pacing and turned to face him, angling in a way that Roy recognized as the same stance he'd used during his fights in L.A. but his own temper made him ignore the warning sign.

"That may have been a part of me before; before I met you and got to really know you, but not now! I'm willing to put myself on the line for you, Edward, and I expect that you'd at least listen to what I have to say with an open mind—"

"Ha!" barked Edward. His face twisted with scorn. "'Expect'? You 'expect' me to listen to you; the liar? Well, you can 'expect' that I don't listen to your 'orders'—"

"Now see here!" growled Roy, coming around the couch.

"Don't you take that patronizing tone with me, you fuckin' prick! I can't stand it when people patronize me!" Edward backed away from Roy as he came close which angered Roy further. That Edward felt he needed to keep distance between them hit a sore point for Roy. It brought back all the times he'd followed a much younger Edward, trying to figure out what made him tick only to watch him run away at the mere sight of him.

Reaching out, Roy grabbed Edward's arm with his right hand, dragging him closer. The smell of Edward's shampoo drifted up to him. "I'm not patronizing you, you silly fool, I'm trying to make up with you!"

Growling dangerously in the back of his throat, Edward yanked his arm free and shifted away. "Silly? So, now I'm silly, too? That's fuckin' nice, that is!"

"Edward!" Roy stepped forward, taking both arms into his hands and pulling a struggling Edward back to him. "Edward, stop! Just..._stop_, please." Something in his desperate, pleading tone must have caught Edward's attention because he suddenly stilled in his hold. He touched his forehead to Edward's, looking into his eyes as the tension and fight slowly left the smaller man's body. "You remember what I said last night, about you belonging to me?" Roy waited for the infinitesimal nod. "Well, that means I belong to you, too, Edward. What can I do? Just tell me; name anything, I'll do whatever you want me to in order to prove to you that I'm serious. Just...tell me, please."

Edward dropped his gaze without dislodging Roy. He could see a faint dusting of pink spreading across his cheeks. Feeling as though he was finally getting through to Edward, Roy eased up on his grip and traced up strong arms, wrapping his hands gently around a muscular neck. His fingers wove into the braid holding the blond hair back. Keeping Edward close, Roy kissed his forehead, lingering there and inhaling his scent. He closed his eyes and hoped that he wasn't going to find a fist in his stomach for taking liberties.

"Are you serious—I mean, really serious?" asked Edward in a small voice. Instead of answering right away, Roy kissed along his brow, down to his temple and then pulled back. All of Edward's attention seemed to be focused on him. His eyes caught and held Roy's gaze so that he couldn't look away. There was such earnest, hopefulness in Edward's face that it made Roy wish he was brave enough to kiss Edward on the lips right now.

But he held back.

"I'm really serious, Edward. I gave my job to Winry—I'm unemployed now, so I guess that means I'll have to live off of your salary," joked Roy, his voice low and intimate.

Edward huffed a laugh. "Well, that's not going to work out very well 'cause I'm unemployed too."

"That is a problem," agreed Roy. He let his hands drop to his sides and took a half step back. As much as he wanted to prolong this moment, he needed to remember that he had to go at Edward's pace—he would go at Edward's pace. He would never force Edward into something ever again. "Well, I'm glad we could talk and come to an understanding—ah, we did, right?" wondered Roy. "Come to an understanding that is." He still feared getting punched.

"That depends."

"Oh?"

"Well..." Edward crossed his arms over his chest but it didn't look defensive, rather Edward seemed slightly playful. "You said you'd do whatever I wanted you to; that true?"

"Of course," agreed Roy easily. "What do you want of me?" An uneasy, prickly sensation itched at the back of his neck as his mind raced with every possible scenario and demand Edward might come up with. He hoped that whatever Edward asked of him, it was something he would be able to give. He dreaded what would happen if he was asked to give something that was beyond his power.

"I'm not excusing what you did to me and it's not okay yet—I just want to put that out there—but that's not to say that I'm not willing to…ah…try." To Roy's amusement, Edward started to turn very red. He wondered what thoughts were racing through his mind at this moment. Edward glanced nervously at him then away, readjusting his arms tighter about his body. "Ah…what I'm saying is…I want you to be nicer—to everyone. Don't take people for granted and don't use them anymore."

Roy's heart broke and mended all at once. Before he knew it, he enveloped Edward in a hug, dipping his head beside Edward's ear, holding him close. "Of all the many things I imagined you asking for, I am ashamed to say I didn't once think you'd ask for that," murmured Roy.

Shyly, Edward's arms wrapped around his waist and Roy's heart now soared. He squeezed Edward to his chest and kissed his ear. "I promise, and if I forget, I hope I can rely on you to always remind me."

"I can do that," said Edward against his shirt. He turned his head so that it was tucked against his shoulder. Roy loved that Edward was the perfect size to fit under his chin; his little pocket sized soon-to-be-lover, he thought with amusement. He really wanted to kiss him, but not yet. He had to let Edward dictate the pace. But, damn he wanted.

With reluctance Roy pulled away from the embrace. Smiling down at Edward's curious face, he stroked a hand through his bangs. He wanted to linger here, but he should leave now and come back tomorrow in order to give them both time to process all this. In the mean time, he should head over to the apartment Alex had bought and see if it would work for as a more permanent place to stay. While he could simply move into a hotel that would be more suited to his needs, he wanted to make a break with that style of living.

"I should go soon. I have things to take care of to make my stay long-term, but before I do; I spoke to your father before I left," said Roy, stroking his thumb over Edward's cheek.

Edward looked disappointed for a moment which did wonders for Roy's ego, and then surprised. "Oh-oh, uh…did he rag you out?"

"Not quite, though he was understandably angry on your behalf. No, he let me know how much I hurt you and I told him that I'd never knowingly do that again. And then…he gave us his blessing," murmured Roy.

Edward gasped, his eyes going wide. "Really? Holy shit! He wasn't all that cool with my sexuality and now he's cool with us? Wow…"

"Us?" Roy quirked an eyebrow at Edward's choice of pronoun.

Shifting, Edward blushed again. "Well, we are 'us', right?"

"We are if you want us to be," said Roy, keeping his voice low. His heart beat a furious tempo in his chest. Thank God for Edward's penchant for being unexpected. He only hoped…

"Then we are," proclaimed Edward, smiling. Quick as silver, Edward leaned forward and pecked him on the lips.

Roy sighed. "I think I'm beginning to love when you surprise me, but that wasn't near enough. May I kiss you?" he asked.

"Why are you asking?" Ed blushed deeply. "That's so annoying—and weird, like, who asks that anyway? You should just do it and not ask—"

Roy's mouth covered the rest of Edward's burgeoning, embarrassed rant, his tongue sliding deep into his mouth, tasting. It was like a spark to gasoline. Every fiber of Roy's being now felt too hot, and his stomach flipped, twisting with excitement. He pressed up close to the body in front of him, his hands sliding back up into that golden hair and tilting Edward's head to the side, making the kiss even deeper.

Edward moaned, pawing at his upper arms and gripping his shirt to pull him down. Roy was already half hard from just tasting Edward and now with this insistent tugging he was quickly losing the rational part of his brain to his baser, hedonistic emotions. He tried to maintain a hold on himself but with each sound and move that Edward made, his valiant efforts became harder.

One hand found its way to the crest of Edward's ass, pressing the smaller body forwards until they were chest to chest, groin to groin. Wet tongues battled alternately for dominance or submission until they broke apart to catch their breath. Strong hands stoked up Roy's arms, over his shoulders and down the front of his neck. Panting, Edward leaned forward and kissed the hollow of his throat. Roy let his eyes flutter closed, tilting his head back and shuddering at the subtitle flick of tongue and the more demanding nip of teeth.

"Mm, I love the taste of your skin," mumbled Edward, licking up the side of his neck causing Roy to pull him tight to his body.

Roy shuddered at the friction generated between them, but with Edward's comment, it felt as if reality was suddenly rushing back in again. He pulled Edward away from his neck and reclaimed that lovely mouth. He resisted the need to ravish and lay claim, instead he just slowly encouraged the intensity to a more reasonable level—one that encouraged rational thinking.

"Did you bring your suit back with you?" asked Roy pulling away. The need to be close was still strong and rather than fighting it, he splayed his hands, one still on Edward's ass and the other messed up the fall of golden hair between his fingers. There was a very beautiful flush across Edward's cheeks, so he kissed each one.

"Yeah…why?" murmured Edward.

"I'd really like to take you out tonight. To a fancy place with dim lighting and fabulous French cuisine, where we'll be waited on and I might like to feed you a sample from my plate, while you do the same."

"I didn't peg you for a romantic," said Edward, leaning up to place a lingering kiss on closed lips.

"Neither did I," Roy whispered against Edward's mouth. "Apparently you bring it out in me. What do you think?"

"Honestly?"

"Always," said Roy, kissing Edward's eager mouth lightly.

"Then, let's stay in—here. In my bed…uh, well…if you want to." What started out as somewhat confident ended in hesitant and unsure.

"That sounds...perfect," said Roy very softly.

**End**


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